


Family Role

by VeteranKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dad Klaus Hargreeves, Dave (Umbrella Academy) is Alive, Hargreeves being Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Sober-ish Klaus, There are no rules here Klaus has long hair and you can't stop me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 01:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Klaus doesn't want to go to the funeral. He's got all the family he needs right here in the form of his deceased brother reading in the armchair nearby, his bookworm fiance mixing a cup of coffee in the kitchen, and the sleeping six year old on his lap.Or, in which Klaus meets Dave, falls in love, and finds himself with a six year old daughter and a relatively normal life and, somehow, arguably the most normal one out of his siblings now.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 398
Kudos: 1814





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaus has a nice life because he deserves it, okay? That's all

"I bet..."

"Yeah?"

A look of mischief flickers over her face. "I bet..."

"What do you bet?"

"That you can't find me."

Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Oh?" He says. "Is that so?" He leans forwards, elbows on his knees, and surveys the surrounding area. Her favourite park, with multiple sets of swings, slides of varying heights, a sand pit, small climbing walls, a whole array of toys and equipment that he, at her age, would have lost his mind had Reginald ever let them visit a park. He looks back at her. “Bet.”

A small giggle leaves her lips, slightly muffled by her hands, hidden beneath the sleeves of her sweater. “Count,” she says, taking a step back. Klaus furrows his eyebrows.

“To what?”

She grins. Throws a look over her shoulder, at the park and the other kids there, and then she looks back at him. She shrugs, hesitating, before lifting her hands away from her mouth to say, “twenty.”

Klaus throws his hands over his eyes. “_One_,” he proclaims loudly, and he parts his fingers to peer out only to be met with green eyes as she leans close, placing her small hands over his. “No peeking!”

He pouts, slumping. “Fine, fine! You got me. I won’t peek,” he promises. “No peeking.” He starts again. “One… two…”

He hears her laugh, high pitched and carefree, and then hears her footsteps as she scurries away, heading towards the park. Klaus lifts his head from the shield of his hands so that he can look at Dave sitting beside him on the bench.

“She’s getting good at hiding,” says Dave, eyebrows raised. “You watch, she’s going to bet you like, twenty dollars one day, and you’ll have to cough it up.”

Klaus snickers, knocking his knees against Dave’s. “You’re just saying that because she scared you,” he teases. Dave eyes him, unimpressed.

“I’m serious,” he says. “She’s good at it!”

“Oh, I know,” Klaus laughs. He reaches out to cover Dave’s hands with his, nimble fingers cupping around his. “I’m proud.”

Dave snorts but responds by squeezing his hand gently, eyes ghosting over the park.

He had met Dave years ago. Dave had been working in a library temporarily and had taken to talking to Klaus when he began to frequent it during a harsh winter, and they had continued to run into one another. Dave had bought him coffee and hadn’t wanted things from Klaus like other men did. He spoke and he was interested in what Klaus had to say and Klaus, had he not been intrigued by him from that first day in the library, rapidly found himself hooked.

When the weather had been bad – dropping to the lowest it had been in years, snow and all – Dave had seen him in the doorway of a building, too high to hardly notice the biting cold. He had coaxed him onto his feet and brought him back to his apartment, let him warm up and eat and, slowly, sobered up a little. He let him stay there as the weather stayed bad, and they got close in that period of time. Dave understood him, didn’t exploit him, and he was kind, so kind.

And, a little under a year ago, he had proposed. Klaus had cried, and they both had rings that hardly ever left their fingers. Of course they had discussed having an actual wedding, and although Klaus would eagerly jump at the chance to wear a huge wedding gown and descend a wide staircase, glass stained windows casting illusions across his skin, striding down an aisle, they had simply never gotten around to it. There was the issue of money, and of time, and of thinking of family, personal preferences, the consideration of Dave being Jewish and discussing how they could acknowledge and incorporate that, etcetera, etcetera. They simply hadn’t found the time.

Klaus didn’t mind much. He knew that he loved Dave, and a marriage would just be an official title for them. As long as he could be by his side, he didn’t mind.

Of course, though, perhaps the most drastic change since meeting Dave was Sadie. Dave’s daughter of whom he had had with one of his relationships that ended badly and with Sadie in Dave’s custody, and Dave had been ecstatic when Klaus had not only gotten close to him, but to her too. Previous relationships had seen him struggle with his partner interacting with Sadie, or struggling to find a relationship at all as a single father.

Never had Klaus given thought to being in a committed relationship, discussing marriage, with his own daughter. Had someone suggested the idea of being a father to him, he would have raised his eyebrows and pointedly looked at the syringe he was about to jab into his veins.

He had since gotten sober (for the most part.) He had never counted weed as a drug in the first place, and at least he could actually function on it. He was worse off it than on it, and he knew to keep it well hidden, using it to simply keep the ghosts at bay, and to drown the rest out with Dave and Sadie and Ben and music.

Klaus slides his hands from Dave’s grasp, standing up. “S’pose I better go find her before she starts her new life without us,” he comments, eyes roaming over the park. He stretches his arms up above his head, joints cracking, and as he strolls towards the park, he calls out; “twenty! Ready or not, here I come!”

She is damned good at hiding. Tiny and able to squeeze into places that took Ben to properly find, being able to stick his head through walls and tight spaces, she loved hide and seek.

He looks under the climbing frame first, eyes scanning the ground, and then he peers around the climbing wall, up on top of it, and in the little plastic playhouse, round by the garden. He clambers up onto the playground equipment. He crouches down by the tunnel slide, sticking his head in, balancing himself with a hand above him holding a railing. He catches a glimpse of dark, tightly curled hair, not unlike his own, and a flash of the emerald green of the sweater she had been wearing, and he grins.

He sticks his legs into the slide and has to go down at an extremely awkward angle to actually fit himself into the tight space.

“Got you,” he says, reaching forwards to wrap his arms around her as he goes down. Her excited yell echoes off the walls of the tunnel, her fingers curling tightly into his sleeves as she clutches onto him. They come out the other side of the slide, almost falling off it and onto the ground, and Klaus holds her close, held trapped. “I won,” he teases in a sing-song voice, a grin on his face. “I won, I won. What do I get? What do I win?”

“Nothing!” She says, trying to squirm out of his grip.

“Do I get a hug?” He asks. “A kiss? Do I get to play with your doll? Or,” he gasps, leaning in close by her ear. “That secret chocolate you have – oh yeah, I know about that, you,” he grins, then leans his head over her shoulder to look at Dave, tipping his head in his direction. “Aba doesn’t know, though. I’ll keep it quiet if you let me have some.”

Sadie giggles, bouts of hardly restrained laughter slipping past her lips, and her hair falls across her face as she nods her head. “Okay, okay. Promise?” She asks, and Klaus grins, reaching one hand up and sticking out his pinky finger. She curls her own around it and then presses her thumb to his.

“Pinky promise. Come on, up you get, let’s go see him,” he coaxes, lifting her onto her feet and following after her as she hurries ahead to Dave. By the time he’s reached them, she’s sat on one of his legs, eying Klaus as if he might spill the secret of the chocolate she had been hoarding in one of the drawers in her bedroom. Klaus simply winks at her and stands by Dave’s other side.

“I won,” Klaus reports with a cocky smile. Dave gives him an amused look, a snort leaving his lips.

“I’m so proud,” he replies and Klaus preens, a wide grin spreading his lips. “Alright, come on. We can stop by the sweet shop on our way home for you two.”

Klaus grins even wider and when Sadie stands up, he holds out his fist and it only takes her a moment before she bumps it with her own. She raises her arms up, face expectant and hopeful. Klaus crouches down, hands hooking under her arms, and then he stands and lifts her up in a familiar motion, setting her on his shoulders. Her hands go to his head, burying into the thick curls of hair. He had been growing his hair out lately, letting it grow into ringlets similar to Sadie’s, just long enough to be pulled back into a bun. He was still debating whether or not he liked it better than the styled mess his shorter hair had been, but he was happy with it so far, and Sadie liked to play with it and put it into different styles. She was slowly reaching the point where Klaus couldn’t keep her on her shoulders for long, but she loved it.

“Lead the way, Davey-boy,” he calls. Sadie hits the air with one of her fists. One of his own hands stay up, settled on her leg to keep her steady, and the other one searches out for Dave’s. He can feel the silver band of his engagement ring on his finger and it brings a smile to his face.

He feels happier than he has in a long time. Not artificial happiness drawn out from drugs, but a kind of happiness he had doubted even existed for a long time.

The sweet shop door hits a chime as they enter, and the smell of sugar and candy hits them like a wave. He sets Sadie on the floor before they go in, watching the way her eyes take in the shelves upon shelves of sugar filled snacks, widening with childlike amazement.

“One sweet,” says Dave, looking at both Klaus and Sadie. “One.”

“You’re no fun,” Klaus pouts, shoulders slumping. Nonetheless, he lets Dave follow after Sadie while he searches out what it is that he’s craving. He grabs a simple packet of chocolate buttons before turning down an aisle and pausing. Dave crouches down behind Sadie, pointing at different sweets and wondering about the options.

No, Klaus certainly didn’t have this scene in mind when he imagined his future. But he was glad that it was happening nonetheless.

He creeps forwards, setting a hand onto Dave’s shoulder. “What’s she getting?” He asks, eying the shelves. Sadie comes forwards, holding up her hands to show a packet of m&m’s. “Oh,” he breathes, “that’s a good choice.”

Dave stands, knees groaning, and he takes the sweets to pay for them, and then they head back out, Sadie busy with her sweets, walking in front of him and Dave.

“She takes after you a lot,” Dave comments. Klaus hums, lifting his gaze up from the floor.

“We just have the same minds,” Klaus says. Dave snorts.

“I know that,” he says sarcastically. “But it’s nice to see.”

“Awww,” Klaus coos, grinning and squeezing Dave’s hand. “Dad of the year award, huh?”

Dave nudges him. “You’re not as bad as you might think you are,” he comments, and Klaus’ cheeks warm slightly. Instead of replying, he focuses on watching to make sure Sadie doesn’t run into something in her entranced state with her m&m’s.

####

They reach the apartment quickly. Klaus kicks his shoes off and hangs his coat up as Sadie leans against Dave to take her own shoes off, neatly setting them aside next to theirs, tiny sneakers in comparison to Klaus’ thick heeled boots and Dave’s leather shoes. Klaus doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how small her clothes are.

She takes off, heading into the living room to sit down by the coffee table and pick up a pencil, continuing immediately from where she left off with a drawing.

“Coffee?” Dave asks, a hand on Klaus’ back. Klaus hums.

“If you’re making one,” he nods. Dave leans forwards, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before drifting into the kitchen. Klaus falls down onto the couch, sighing and stretching his legs out along the cushions where he reaches for the television remote, turning it on for some background noise.

His head rests on a cushion, eyes flitting down to the paper Sadie’s drawing on, watching her absentmindedly. Then he looks aside and hums.

“I don’t know how you aren’t sick of that book,” he comments. Ben, sitting on an armchair with one leg crossed over the other, his book held in his hands at a random page. He looks up from what he’s reading.

“It’s a good book,” he says. Klaus quirks an eyebrow.

“Maybe the first time,” he says.

“Is Ben here?”

Klaus glances at Sadie, humming. “Yup. Benny’s sitting over there.” He points a finger at the armchair and the girl turns around expectantly.

“Hi,” she says, waving a small hand, a small smile on her face.

“Hey,” Ben replies.

“He says hi,” says Klaus. Sadie smiles, turning back to her picture.

“It’s still good,” Ben continues.

“Debatable,” Klaus murmurs with a small smirk. Dave’s footsteps creak against floorboards as he comes close, holding out a coffee to Klaus that he accepts happily, blowing gently across the surface to cool it down. He moves so that Dave can sit next to him, thigh touching his, and he melts into his side. Hands cupping his coffee, he lets his eyes drift shut. He’s content like this; the scribble of Sadie’s pencil against paper, the drone of unintelligible television, a good coffee, Ben turning book pages and Dave, steady beside him.

“How’s it going, Ben?” Dave asks, eyes bouncing briefly to the armchair.

Ben approves of Dave, too. Dave talks to Ben as if he can see and hear him, with Klaus translating for him, after Klaus had done a lot of explaining and waving Umbrella Academy magazines and news articles at Dave.

“Fine,” Ben says. “I think you should check out that new movie coming out, though. The musical.”

“He wants to see a new musical coming out,” Klaus says. Dave hums.

“We could check it out.”

“I think it’s supposed to be good. Trailer looks good.”

“He says the trailer looks good for it.”

Dave nods his head, shoulder slightly jostling Klaus. “We’ll check it out, then. See when it’s in the cinema.”

Ben throws Dave a smile that goes unseen by him, but Dave still manages to smile in his direction as well before turning his attention forwards to the television.

“I was thinking we could have chicken tonight,” he adds, some time later when the coffee in his hands is near empty. “How’s that sound, princess?”

Sadie hums, her tongue poking out between her teeth. She concentrates on finishing a line on the paper before turning to look at Dave and nodding. “Uh-huh,” she says, and then turns to the drawing again.

“That’s sorted,” Klaus says. He stretches out to set his coffee aside so he can more easily melt into Dave, head on his shoulder. Dave sets his own coffee aside so that he can wrap an arm around Klaus. “You do make good chicken,” Klaus murmurs. His nose nudges his neck and he tips his head forwards so that he can press a gentle kiss on his neck, and then another, followed quickly by another and another.

Dave lets out a huff of breath. His thumb rubs the exposed skin of his waist from where his shirt rides up slightly. Klaus peels his eyes open to peer up at him, his strong jaw and warm eyes, softly tousled brown hair.

“I’m a good cook,” Dave murmurs back, eyes flicking down. Klaus’ lips twitch upwards and he nods his head in agreement – he is a surprisingly good cook – before he forces himself to sit upright better, turning to face him easier. He brings his hands up to cup his cheeks, catching his lips with his own, letting his eyes slip closed. Dave kisses gently, something tender and loving, with a hand that holds his jaw lightly, fingertips gracing over his skin. It never needs to be something heavy and hot to leave Klaus breathless and with a stomach full of butterflies, swooning over every little touch he offers.

He’s reluctant to part the kiss, but eventually he does so, lingering a few inches from him before Dave steals one last kiss.

“Help me make it?” Dave requests, voice hushed ever so slightly. Klaus hums, takes Dave’s offered hand and then follows him into the kitchen. He’s not as good a cook as Dave might be, but Dave directs him to and fro, telling him to do things that he finds easy enough. He preheats the oven, sets out plates, gets Sadie a glass of orange juice and when he returns to the kitchen, he reaches inside a cabinet to the top shelf, pulling down a Tupperware box of brownies.

“Don’t eat too much,” says Dave. “We’re cooking.”

Klaus hums, waving his hand dismissively and dropping a brownie into his mouth. Weed doesn’t quite do the trick like other drugs used to, and he finds himself having to keep a steady constant high, jumping from joint to edible to keep the ghosts away, lest it wear off.

He does put the brownies back away again before Sadie can notice the treats and attempt to get them later on, and instead tasks himself with pouring her some juice and setting it nearby on the coffee table. He risks a glance at the picture she’s drawing and catches four figures; her in between Dave and Klaus and, slightly off to the side, is Ben. His lips twitch upwards.

“Guess you’re just a little artist now, huh?” He comments, bringing her gaze up to him. She beams, nodding her head happily.

“It’s us,” she says, “and Benny. You said he wears black.”

“Spot on, princess,” Klaus nods. Ben lifts his head from his book to peer over at the paper, his own lips curling upwards.

“Does he like it?” She asks.

“He loves it,” says Klaus, then tips his head to the side, patting her shoulder gently before returning to the kitchen to help Dave finish cooking.

Sadie sits up on the couch between him and Dave, plate balanced on her lap, and she has her own cartoons on the television as they eat. Something Klaus doesn’t actually know what’s going on but recognises it from one of the cartoons she frequently watches. When dinner’s done, she curls up next to them and, while watching the cartoon, she begins to doze off, eyes fluttering closed and head drooping. Klaus smiles, draping one arm over her, his hand absentmindedly twirling curled hair around his fingers, and it isn’t long before she’s snoring quietly against his side, fingers curled into his shirt.

Klaus never imagined himself in a family setting like this, but he’s already decided that the kid owns his heart just as much as Dave does.

“She asleep?” Dave asks from the kitchen.

“Out like a light,” says Klaus. Dave sets a dish aside to dry before he comes close again. He smiles, reaching a hand over the back of the couch to brush hair from her face slightly.

She’s small in stature, with hair a rather dark brown and tightly curled in a similar fashion to Klaus’, ending around her jaw, thick and unruly, and she likes how it matches Klaus’. Skin like Dave’s when he manages to catch a tan, and wide, inquisitive emerald green eyes, she almost looks a mix of Dave and Klaus’ own child. He does consider her his own, too. She’s his daughter, in every way other than blood, and he loves as much as any parents loves their child, even if calling himself a parent or father gives him an existential crisis. She’s a happy child, Klaus knows. Always energetic and excited, ever curious and always ready to play or talk or do something, and always happy to fall asleep next to either of them.

Dave sits down on Klaus’ other side, changes the channel to the news, and Klaus lets it wash over him in a drone in the back of his mind.

Dave nudges him. Klaus blinks, humming and lifting his head up. Dave, wearing a grim face, eyebrows furrowed, nods his head towards the television. Klaus looks to it.

A news reporter’s mouth is in a pinched line, their hands clasped together on their desk. _Reginald_ _Hargreeves_, they say_, is dead_. His father died of a heart attack.

“Shit,” says Ben. Klaus agrees.

It’s only common sense that there’ll be a funeral. He knows that Pogo and Luther will ensure this, and probably Grace, too. There might be a whole situation in concern with the Umbrella Academy, and surely with their inheritance, too, unless Reginald decided to write in his will that he wants the stacks of cash he has hidden somewhere set alight rather than landing in the hands of his children.

The realisation that Klaus might have to go back to the Academy, and for a funeral no less, makes him groan. He scrubs a hand down his face.

“Shit,” he mutters, repeating Ben’s eloquently put response. He had almost been convinced that Reginald had been invincible, that not even death could catch up to him. He had been convinced that he’d never have to go back to that place, too.

“I’m sorry, Klaus,” Dave says, his voice soft as he reaches out to find his hand and offer some comfort. Klaus tears his eyes away from the screen and the picture of the Umbrella Academy, the infamous one where they’re all lined up outside the bank after the robbery that sent them into the limelight, rather to focus on Dave.

“Don’t be,” Klaus dismisses, shaking his head. “Was about time,” he admits with a snort, then he bites down on his lip. Had anyone been called? He hadn’t ever checked in with Pogo in recent years to clear his status from dwelling in alleyways to actually living what one might consider a relatively normal life. What’s supposed to happen now? Nothing?

“Still,” says Dave, squeezing his hand. “I am.”

Klaus stares at the television. “Do you think your family will call?” Dave asks. Klaus huffs a breath.

“Luther will do something,” Ben utters. “And Allison, probably.”

“Probably,” Klaus grumbles, sparing him a brief glance. They probably would. “Not call,” he clarifies to Dave. “They don’t have my number; I’ve not spoken to them in years. But Pogo and Luther would plan something.”

“You think everyone would go?” He asks. Klaus sighs.

“I have no idea,” he admits. It’s typical, of course, to have some kind of funeral or memorial when someone dies. Of course it is. But of course, they’re the Hargreeves. Who knows. He might go and only Luther might be there because he never left in the first place. Diego wouldn’t be happy to go, and who knows what Allison and Vanya think. It would feel odd to go back there and Klaus realises that he really doesn’t want to.

Reginald isn’t, and never was, part of his family. His family is here with him, Dave beside him and Sadie slumping onto his lap, holding his shirt like a substitute for a teddy bear, and Ben, sitting in the armchair nearby. Not the Umbrella Academy.

Something tells him that it would be worse if he didn’t try and go. If anything, he owes it to Pogo to try and show up at the very least.

“Think about it,” Dave tells him. “You have time.”

Klaus sighs and closes his eyes, listening as Dave changes the channel on the television to something else. He focuses on Sadie’s hair, curled gently around his fingertips. He focuses on his family.

###

Klaus stands in front of the mirror, eying himself. He’s changed out of the clothes he was wearing prior, rather wearing a pair of proper black suit pants, patterned with flowers and a leather belt. On his top half he wears a horrifically plain black button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, alternating between the buttons done right to the top and the top few undone and left open.

Dave comes up behind him, resting his chin on his shoulders, arms wrapping around his torso. “How are you feeling?” He asks. Klaus sighs.

“This is so dull,” he mutters, looking himself up and down. “I look like I’m trying to look like a man.”

Dave snorts. “You look nice though. Fancy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Klaus jokes, tipping his head back and resting his hands over Dave’s.

“One night,” he tells him. “Then you can wear whatever you want.”

At the very least, he thinks, he still has smudged purple eyeshadow around his eyes that he’s refused to wipe off.

“Why are you leaving?”

Klaus startles at the voice, turning around to see Sadie in the doorway, her pyjamas on and hair ruffled from getting out of bed, and a unicorn plushie in one hand.

“Hey, princess,” he says, voice instantly melting into something soft and gentle. He turns, crouching down as she comes close. “I’ve just got some dumb adult stuff to do, don’t you worry about that. You need to be getting your beauty sleep, you know.”

She keeps staring at him, eyes wide and sleepy, slightly teary.

“Don’t go,” she says, holding out a hand. Klaus sighs gently, reaching out to take the hand and tug her closer.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he tells her, and she slumps into him, small hands curling into his shirt and tugging slightly.

Dave comes up, crouching beside them. “Come on, darling. He’ll tuck you back into bed, okay?” He persuades, hand on her back. Sleepy and clingy, Sadie moans sadly, tucking her face into the crook of Klaus’ neck. Klaus can only smile sadly, continuing to rub his hand up and down her back.

“It’s bed time for you,” he says, and he stands, bringing her up with him with a small grunt. “You go to bed and close your eyes, and I’ll be back when you open them.”

He’d much rather stay here with her and Dave, much rather that, but his conscience wouldn’t stop nagging him and nor would Ben if he didn’t go. So he carries Sadie into her bedroom, lowering her into her bed and tucking her in, making sure to slide the unicorn teddy in next to her so she can wrap her arms around it.

“I’ll be quick,” he tells her.

“Promise?”

Klaus smiles. “Pinky promise.”

He holds out his pinky and she wraps hers around it, and then they lock it at the thumbs. “Get your beauty sleep, alright?” He leans forwards, lips pressing a kiss to her forehead, thumb brushing aside curls, and then he stands.

“I love you,” she says quickly. Klaus smiles.

“I love you too,” he replies, and he leaves the room reluctantly, quietly shutting the door behind him.

She is a clingy child, more so when she’s tired, and goodbyes always feel like someone’s stabbed him and keeps twisting the knife further into his guts. Dave squeezes his arm as he composes himself outside her bedroom door, and then guides him to the front door so he can grab his jacket and throw it on. He checks the pockets – empty save for a wallet with a little money in it, a packet of cigarettes (with two joints stuffed inside) and a lighter, and his phone that he had almost forgotten about.

“She’ll be fine,” Dave tells him, leaning against the doorway. Klaus lets out a small laugh.

“I know, I know. She has those puppy dog eyes, though,” he whines. Dave quirks an eyebrow.

“She learned them from you,” he replies. Klaus smiles.

“I have got good eyes,” he snickers to himself, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You do,” Dave agrees. He comes close, then, hand on his hip pulling him close enough so that he can catch his lips. Klaus’ hand lingers on his cheek, immediately melting into him before he pulls away too soon. “Try not to get into a fight, okay?”

Klaus snorts. “No promises,” he mutters, then slumps. “Do I _have_ to go?”

“Probably,” Dave shrugs. Klaus groans, shoulders rolling back.

“Funerals are shit,” he mutters.

“Of course. You’ll be back before you know it,” Dave tells him. Klaus groans once more.

“Fine, fine. Try not to miss me too much.” He forces a grin and then lunges forwards, catching one last kiss. The taxi outside honks its horn and Klaus finds himself taking steps outside, sitting himself into the backseat of the taxi as it takes him further away from his family. His fingers fiddle with the engagement ring on his finger and he wonders, briefly, how long it’ll take for him to be accused of something, or how long it might take for them to notice he has another family, now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! I love hearing your feedback!
> 
> Klaus, for once, gets a break, and a nice life because he deserves it damnit


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The Academy glowers down at him, tall and imposing, as unwelcoming as it had always ever been. Klaus tucks his hands into his pockets as the taxi behind him takes off, leaving him on his old front door and lingering, Ben standing beside him. 

"Never thought I'd be here again," Klaus mutters.

"You and me both," Ben hums. His eyes take in the building, the iron gates and the towering doors. His foot scuffs the floor. "Suppose we better get it over with, though."

Klaus sighs, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. He pushes aside the iron gates and goes up to the door, and it groans open beneath his touch. He steps inside, boots clicking on marble floor, and he’s assaulted by memories. Trudging inside after a mission, someone else’s blood on him. Hurling insults at Reginald in the midst of night, fifteen years old and pupils blown wide, and his family looking at him with disapproval. Wearing his best clothes to Ben’s funeral, twitchy with withdrawals, a shadow flickering in his peripheral. Sneaking out to Griddy’s, falling down the massive staircase towering in front of him now, being shoved forwards to receive his tattoo first, standing for photos and portraits, stealing anything small but expensive looking that wouldn’t be noticed for a while.

This place isn’t home.

The door thuds closed behind him, snapping him free from his trance and urging him to wander further inside. He tilts his head up, eying the door to the kitchen and dining room, the door to the living room, the staircase. He can hear footsteps somewhere distant and wonders if it’ll just be him and Luther.

He goes up the stairs, hand drifting along the bannister, taking steps with nostalgia and he isn’t sure if it’s a good feeling or not. His eyes bounce around the corridor, at all the doors to their rooms and bedrooms never used. Sadie would love it, he thinks. He’d never find her in this maze.

He turns down another corridor, away from footsteps in a bedroom, in Luther’s bedroom, heavy and something he doesn’t want to face yet, and he finds himself in a corridor he’s hardly ever been in. They only came up to Reginald’s office to try and say goodnight or when they had something to report – powers, missions, failures. It makes him feel tense, but Reginald’s dead, and Reginald can’t say anything to him now, can’t even stop him from shoving aside his office doors and having the room to himself. Part of him wants to trash it just for the sake of trashing Reginald’s stuff, and another part curiously roams his eyes over everything.

He leaves the door slightly ajar behind him. “Isn’t this the jackpot?” He says, turning to glance briefly at Ben.

“What are you even doing in here?” He asks. Klaus shrugs honestly, rounding his desk so that he can collapse heavily into Reginald’s infamous chair. He slumps into it, and then kicks his feet up onto his desk, purposefully knocking a few things off.

“Dunno, really,” he admits. “Spite, probably. Old man can’t stop me from doing this-“ He jerks his foot and kicks off an ornament from his desk, hearing it thud to the ground and roll away. His hand dips to a nearby drawer, pulling it open and fishing inside, grabbing a handful of papers. He glances briefly over it, eyes taking in the scrawl of ink, dated over a decade ago, and then he lets it flutter to the ground in a mess. “Or that.”

“So really you’re just being a little shit?” Ben says, quirking an eyebrow, and Klaus grins.

“Pretty much. Some things never change, Benny,” he says, punctuating his sentence by throwing something over his shoulder and grimacing when he hears what he’s sure is not a thud but rather a crunch. “Plus,” he adds, “maybe there’s something nice here I can bring back. Or pawn and get us all a holiday to the Himalayas,” he muses. There’s got to be a million dollars kicking around somewhere, surely. He wonders where Reginald actually kept all of his money, and curiosity has him fishing around in the drawers of his desk.

One drawer’s locked, and it piques his curiosity. Sharing a look with Ben, he sets about first trying to find the keys and, when he can’t, he pulls a bobby pin from his pocket – pink with flowers on it, a stray of Sadie’s – and sticks it into the lock. A few seconds pass and the drawer pops open, contents free in his hands. The only content of the drawer is a box, though – sure, one that looks expensive, no doubt, but a simple box. He holds it up and shakes it near his ear, hearing paper rustle and thud heavily. He uses the bobby pin to pick the lock again, wondering if he really did just strike gold – only to slump in defeat at the sight of a red book on stacks of paper, covered in his scrawl again. Klaus groans and throws it all aside with some force, not caring much that the box and its contents bounce off the window sill and teeter for a second before succumbing and tumbling out of the window.

“Old man ruins all my fun,” he grumbles.

“For all you know that book had the number to his safe, or something,” Ben tells him. Klaus glares at him.

“Don’t even tease me like that,” he pouts, a flare of regret flashing in his chest. “Fine. I’ll get dear dad’s book later, but I blame it on you for not-“

“Klaus?”

He hardly hears her entering and he startles, jumping slightly in the seat and sitting upright.

“Allison?” He says, eyes swiftly flicking up and down her. He’s familiar with her now, though, what with her face on just about every magazine and in every film these days, but it’s still a slight shock to see her, especially in person, after so long. To hear her voice after only ever receiving that of her agent’s whenever one of them was to phone or write to her. “Oh my, _the_ Allison Hargreeves?” He gasps, quickly changing his tone to a mock awe-struck one.

He rises in a fluid motion, eating the ground in long strides before he comes to a stop in front of her. “Mind if I get an autograph? I’m a big fan,” he says, grinning. Allison huffs a laugh, lips curling upwards, and then she looks him up and down.

“It’s… been a while,” she says, and Klaus hums.

“Indeed. Don’t just stand there, then,” he says, and he holds out his arms, quirking an eyebrow. He doesn’t wait for her response, pulling her into a tight, albeit brief, hug, his hands lingering on his arms when he pulls back. “Super stardom treating you well, I see.”

Allison lets out another soft laugh, and then raises an eyebrow. “You’re looking good too, Klaus,” she says, a hint of something in the undertones of her words, and Klaus grins.

“Oh, I know,” he says. He doesn’t confront her unspoken questions – _rehab? Sober? High? Homeless? _– not bothering to sate her curiosity, instead turning to the door as footsteps come closer, heavy. He has to do a double take, eyes blowing wide.

Luther is, quite frankly, huge. He had always been the tallest, but he seems to have grown even taller still, and looks as if he’s stolen the body of a body builder.

“Shit,” Ben mutters, and Klaus swallows.

“Oh,” he says, “hey there, Luther.” He takes a step back from Allison and composes himself quickly.

“Klaus,” Luther says with a nod, his eyes roaming up and down him with a sparkle of shock. No crop tops, glitter restrained to his eyelids only, no smell of booze or sex on him, no unhinged look to his eyes. Klaus places his hands upon his hips.

“Moon works wonders for the body, huh?” He muses, and Luther’s gaze briefly breaks. “Well, I won’t linger; best let you two catch up, huh? I’ll just…” He slips past Luther, squeezing himself out of the space in the doorway and hurrying away down the corridor, avoiding whatever questions they might have for him. 

"That's weird," he mutters when he's out of earshot, looking at Ben, who snorts. 

“He’s a damned giant,” Klaus retorts, shaking his head. “Maybe he wins prize for most changed.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t flaunting that ring of yours,” Ben states, nodding his head to Klaus’ hand. The ring Dave got him is simple; a silver band with a single square cut diamond that he has facing upwards, and on the inside of the ring is the simple word _beyond. _A part of a saying they had amongst themselves, a little secret of their love that no one else had, no one else could share, and it never failed to make him smile – and, initially, cry when he had first seen it. While Klaus had joked about huge rings covered in diamonds and amethysts and emeralds that only Reginald might ever be able to afford, he doesn’t think there’s anything out there better than this one.

He wants to flaunt it around, of course. Had Luther not come in and Allison had caught sight of the ring, he probably would have burst into telling her how beautiful his fiancé is, and how amazing their daughter is. Part of him isn’t sure he wants them to know, though. He tries to keep the Umbrella Academy and his home life separate, tries to keep them from ever meeting at all. He doesn’t want the Umbrella Academy to seep into his home life like a disease, tainting and corrupting it. But he supposes that he can’t lie about the ring either, so he decides to simply see what happens over the night and do what is best for his family. He has that responsibility now.

He wanders into the living room and pauses in the doorway. Turning around to look at him from the fire is Diego, and he hasn’t changed at all either. Black sweater and knife harness and brooding look; all of it. His eyes take in Klaus, too, like a hawk’s, and he raises his scarred eyebrow.

“Hey, bro,” Klaus says, offering him a smile and drifting closer.

“Klaus,” Diego greets, turning to full face him. “You don’t look like you’ve crawled out of a gutter, huh?” He jokes, and Klaus snorts.

“Fuck you,” he says, but he forces Diego into a hug. “I wish I could say the same for you.” Diego scoffs, patting his back a couple of times before pulling away and once more looking him up and down.

“Seriously, bro,” he says, “how’s everything been? You look… good,” he says, words ever so slightly hesitant.

“I’ve been good,” Klaus simply says, shoulders shrugging. He watches Diego’s eyes narrow and he reaches a hand out to grab Klaus’ left one, lifting it up.

“Is that a fucking _wedding_ _ring_?” He says, eyebrows reaching to Heaven, and so much for not bringing it up immediately, Klaus thinks.

“_No_,” he says, letting Diego eye it for a moment before taking his hand back. “It’s an _engagement_ ring,” he states, rolling his eyes and looking down at the silver ban.

“You’re –“ Diego pauses, seeming to eye him in search for any lies. “You’re engaged? You?”

“Wow, thanks, my self-esteem is _skyrocketing_ right now, dear brother,” drawls Klaus. Diego waves his hand dismissively.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, head shaking. Ben snorts. “I didn’t think you wanted to settle down,” he says. “You’re settling down?”

Klaus huffs out a small laugh. “Nor did I, trust me. Things happen,” he says, patting Diego’s chest. “True love changes things.”

Diego rolls his eyes at his overly-sappy tone and Klaus grins. “Well, uh, shit. Congrats, bro,” he says, a little awkwardly, and Klaus nudges him.

“Thanks. Don’t tell the others; they’ve not noticed yet.”

Diego gives him a look but nods obligingly anyway. “So, what’s her name?” He asks, and Klaus drifts to the couch and falls onto it, crossing one leg over the other.

“_His_ name,” he says, “is Dave.”

Diego hesitates for only a moment before nodding, returning to the armchair seated near the crackling fireplace. “So, Dave’s shackled?”

Klaus laughs, bobbing his head. “Stuck with me now,” he hums, running his thumb over the band.

"Well," says Diego, "he must be a good man to get you to settle down and wear your shirt buttoned up."

Klaus snorts. "He is," he agrees. "He is good, and kind, and beautiful, and perfect. I'm... I'm happy."

Diego's eyes linger on him, a flicker of emotion that Klaus can't quite decipher in his eyes, and then he nods. "Good," he says, voice soft. "That's good, Klaus. I'm happy for you. Really."

Klaus hesitates a moment, simply watching Diego before he closes his mouth without saying anything, smiling instead. "Thank you," he murmurs. He opens his mouth to say something else only to hear the front door groan open on its hinges and for quiet footsteps to echo in the hall outside. He shares a look with Diego, only to notice Diego’s face turning somewhat cold, and he grimaces. Vanya’s book had been brutal and he had had no doubt that Diego would have hated it.

He leaves Allison to be the one to greet her, instead quietly waiting for them all to filter in and join them in the living room, spreading themselves out around the room. Klaus thinks they look like a band after an awkward breakup rather than a family, but he offers no help in relieving some of the tension. He does nod at Vanya when she sits down on the couch next to him, though, offering her a smile that seems to help her relax.

“I’m glad to see everyone here,” Luther comments, and Diego grunts. With a sigh, Luther steps forwards. “I guess I better get this started, then. I figured we could have a memorial service for him. Maybe say a few words in the courtyard at sundown, you know, by dad’s favourite spot.”

Silence answers him.

“Dad had a favourite spot?” Allison asks sceptically. Luther blinks.

“Yes,” he says dumbly, “underneath the big oak tree. We used to go sit outside there all the time. None of you ever did that?” He asks it with genuine shock in his tone and Klaus laughs. Already he feels an itch in his bones and an ache in his head, feels backed into a corner, feels on edge, on the defensive. He doesn’t like being back here and it evokes all kinds of memories and emotions he had been so good at avoiding in the recent years. His fingers tap anxiously on his thigh before he gives in, hand dipping into his pocket to fumble for his cigarettes and lighter. It flickers on, quickly catching and he draws in a deep breath and sighs it out slowly, hoping it works enough to chase away some agitation and unease in his bones.

“Will we have drinks?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at Luther. “Refreshments?”

“What? No,” Luther answers, eyebrows furrowing, and he scowls at the cigarette dangling from his fingers. “Put that out; you know dad doesn’t allow smoking inside.”

Klaus hums and takes another drag, smoke tumbling from his lips as he speaks; “dad can’t stop me now,” he says.

Luther sighs, heavy and resigned. “Look, we still have important things to discuss, alright?”

“Get to business then,” Klaus urges, waving a hand at him. Luther eyes him for a moment.

“Like what?” Diego asks, though his face and tone tells Klaus that he knows exactly what Luther’s about to say and he’s daring him to do it.

“Like the way dad died,” Luther says, and immediately Diego snorts bitterly, shaking his head.

“I thought he died from a heart attack,” says Vanya, face pinched.

“According to the coroner,” Luther says.

“Well, wouldn’t he know?”

“Theoretically.”

“_Theoretically_,” echoes Klaus, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m just saying,” Luther’s voice picks up, silencing them once more, “something odd happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange.”

“Strange _how_?” Allison asks, peering over at him.

“He sounded on edge,” Luther says. “He told me to be careful who I trust.”

Diego sighs, heaving himself up onto his feet. “Luther,” he begins, “dad was a paranoid, bitter old man who was beginning to lose what was left of his marbles-“

“No,” Luther interjects, voice firm. “He must have known something was going to happen.” He turns his gaze from Diego to Klaus with an intensity Klaus associates with Reginald and bad things. “I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad, Klaus.”

Klaus tilts his head to the side, blinking incredulously. “Uh, what?”

“You need to contact dad, Klaus. Ask him what happened,” Luther insists. Klaus taps ash from his cigarette out onto the floor by his feet, head already shaking.

“Nope. Nada, nuh-uh, not happening, big boy. I’m – no. No.”

“You’re high,” he accuses, then, and Klaus’ eyes flick to Ben with a pointed look. Ben just shrugs and Klaus takes another drag of his cigarette.

“No,” he lies. He’s a mellow weed kind of high as opposed to the high pills and powders and syringes and crystals brought him, and so that’s virtually not high at all. “But that’s not how my powers work anyway. I don’t just dip my hand into a bag of ghosts and pull out dad. I can’t just stick my head into the afterlife and request dear dad stops playing tennis with Hitler so he can take a quick call,” he scoffs, slumping into his seat.

“You’re sober?” Asks Allison and Klaus grunts, dismissively flapping a hand in her direction.

“Is that a ring?” Vanya asks, voice quiet beside him. Klaus stills briefly, putting his hand right back down onto his lap.

“A what?” Allison asks, eyebrows furrowing, and Diego catches Klaus’ eyes and shrugs helplessly.

“A ring,” Vanya repeats. “It is – are you…”

“I thought we were here to discuss the tragic passing of our father,” Klaus interrupts, raising his voice over Vanya. “Not my private life.”

“Are you _married_?” Allison asks, and she pushes herself off the pillar she’s leaning against to come forwards, peering down at his hand and the silver band around it.

“Married?” Luther echoes with obvious scepticism. Klaus throws his head back and groans slightly.

“No, I’m not married,” he states, lifting his hand up. “It’s an engagement ring. I’m engaged. Now can we get back onto the subject at hand-“

“When did you get engaged? Why didn’t you tell us?” Allison asks, a little hurt in her voice. Klaus sighs. "We've never met them."

“A while ago,” he states. “Ten months ago. I was a bit busy and half of you are unreachable anyway.” He gives her a pointed look and she briefly glances away. "But hey, you know now."

“You got engaged?” Luther echoes, evidently shocked. Klaus waggles his finger in the air.

“Yes, Luther. As I’ve said. I know, did a full one-eighty, who would’ve guessed,” he says, and he looks down at the ring. He already misses Dave and Sadie.

“We don’t mean it like that,” Allison hurries to say.

“We’re happy for you,” Vanya says. Klaus offers a smile to her.

“What’s their name?” Allison asks.

“His name is Dave,” Klaus repeats, a small smile creeping onto his face despite himself. Luther clears his throat awkwardly.

“That’s, uh, good, Klaus. Really." He pauses in his words, and there's something in his eyes for a brief moment, something Klaus isn't sure of what it is. Klaus wonders if it's memories of the first time he passed out, high, in the bathtub and he had to kick down the door to get to him, or if he's thinking about the first time he went into hospital for an overdose, or the nights he would sneak out and he'd catch him on his way back in, smelling of nicotine and alcohol and with bruises on his neck and lashing out whenever he was confronted about doing potentially dangerous thing. Maybe the day he saw Klaus on the streets, or the winter he broke into the Academy because he was scared he might die in the cold on the streets. Klaus knows that there were plenty of times his siblings had thought he was dead or were scared he might be on the way to it, times they feared that this was something Klaus would never get to have, and he hadn't shown signs of leaving the path ever. There's a flash of something brotherly, emotions from near two-decades past, and Klaus swallows. Luther pushes on, choosing not to confront that topic - it seems none of them want to, not yet, at least. "But can we stay on topic?”

“That’s what I was saying,” Klaus says, waving his hands in defence and then ducking his head.

“There’s also the issue of the missing monocle,” Luther states, dragging the conversation back to the original topic.

“Who gives a shit about a worthless monocle?” Diego snorts. A knife twirls absentmindedly in his fingers, blade hot and reflecting the fire, glinting in its orange light.

“Exactly,” says Luther. “It’s worthless. So, whoever took it, it’s personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.” He speaks a little slower, eyes drifting over them all.

“What do you mean?” Vanya asks.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Diego retorts, jabbing his knife in Luther’s direction. “He thinks that one of us did it – killed dad.”

“You think that?” Vanya recoils, staring at Luther with evident hurt and Klaus can’t help but let out a bitter laugh and shake his head. He wonders how he managed to rationalise that thought to himself; what one of them he thinks did it, or if they all teamed up together to take him out and manage to do it in a way that made it look like a heart attack.

“If only I thought of that,” Klaus snorts, rising to his feet.

“Where are you going?” He asks, and Klaus waves his hand over his shoulder, heading already to the door.

“Just gonna go kill mom,” he calls back, “I’ll only be a sec.”

He hears more footsteps shuffling out not long after him, hears Diego and Allison say something. With a sigh, Klaus gravitates into the kitchen aimlessly, a hand scrubbing down his cheek. He feels wound up and tense, agitated and angry, and he tries to focus instead on looking through the fridge and the cupboards in search of food.

“Can’t believe you killed dad,” says Ben. Klaus snorts.

“That’s news to me,” he replies in a mutter, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a box of grapes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Well,” says Ben, “it was never going to be a particularly _good _idea, but everyone’s here. And,” he raises an eyebrow, “you get to flaunt the fact that you’re somewhat stable. Can they say the same?”

Klaus laughs lightly. “That is a good argument,” he muses. He drops a few grapes into his mouth, heaving himself onto the dining table. He misses Sadie, he realises. Her teary goodbye echoes in his head and he curses the girl for having him wrapped around her little pinky. He’d much rather be there with her, reading her a book to sleep or letting her paint his nails.

A draft snakes over his arms, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He glances up, a grape perched between his teeth. He can’t see any windows open, but there must be for the draft turns into what must be wind, messing up his hair, and throwing his grapes aside, scattering them across the floor like stray marbles. He lunges forwards to try and catch them, ducking down and it’s lucky he does so for a ton of knives are stolen by the sudden wind and sent flying over his head, landing in the wall with a thud. He stares, wide eyed, at them all, and then shares a look with Ben. Lightning crackles outside and as he slides off the dining table and up to a window to peer outside, he hears hurrying footsteps coming closer, Diego, Luther and Allison all rushing in and heading immediately for the door, as if it’s a wise decision to just run right outside into a storm.

Nonetheless, Klaus follows.

Outside, hovering in the courtyard, is a crackling, rippling storm of blue light that hurts his eyes to look at. It seems to be the centre of the storm, crackling violently and pulsing, and when it gives off a stronger pulse, Luther and Diego take steps forwards to place themselves between the thing, whatever it is, and him, Vanya and Allison.

Klaus, if he looks close enough, thinks that he might be able to see something in it, like some distorted kind of picture. A garden, a fence, an old man right up, like a person right beneath the surface of water, trapped beneath a sheet of ice, rippling and pushing up against it, trying to break free. And then he does.

There’s a blinding flash that makes him duck his head and screw his eyes shut, and he hears a thud, a grunt, and a gasp.

Peeling his eyes open, Klaus’ hands shove his hair back from his face and he peers over Diego’s shoulder. Then he blinks harder, tongue dashing out across his dry lips.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” He asks in a dazed murmur.

###

For someone who just fell out of a tear in reality, space and time – or whatever that thing was – Five is remarkably fast, remarkably calm, and remarkably frustrating.

He goes inside with everyone trailing after him like a flock of sheep, speechless and gaping. Five hardly spares them a second glance. He flashes around the room with an obviously more important mission in mind, searching cabinets and drawers and the refrigerator. They crowd around the far side of the dining table, giving him space and keeping a close eye on him despite the constant teleporting. Klaus’ mind reels and he has pink marks from pinching the back of his hand as if expecting this all to be a dream. Five disappeared years ago, and yet here he is, looking no older than he did the day he ran away, and acting as if he had never left. Instead, he asks for the date.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” Luther asks. Five doesn’t look up. “It’s been _sixteen_ _years_.”

Klaus glances away. “It’s been a lot longer than that,” Five scoffs. He looks up only when Luther steps right in front of him, blocking his way, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he teleports right behind him. Luther’s shoulders slump slightly.

“Haven’t missed that,” he mutters, turning to watch Five once more. “Where have you been, Five?”

“The future,” says Five. “It’s pretty shit, by the way.”

Klaus raises a hand. “Called it,” he says, though his comment goes by disregarded, and Five mutters to himself instead, shaking his head and pursing his lips with some kind of bitterness before he dismisses it. He glances up, then, looking at everyone. He glances at Klaus.

“Nice ring.”

Klaus looks down at it, sitting a bit upright. “Oh! Thanks,” he says, waggling his finger and watching the silver catch the light. He doesn’t notice how Five hadn’t even glanced at it before complimenting it.

“Wait, wait,” interrupts Vanya, shifting on the spot. “How did you get back, then?” She asks.

"In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time,” Five says off handedly, focusing more so on the bread in his hands. Silence echoes.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Diego says, eyebrows furrowed.

“It would if you were smart,” Five says. He grabs his sandwich, finishing it up and lifting it to take a bite out of it. Diego huffs a breath, glaring briefly at him.

“How long were you there?” Vanya asks. Five hums, eyes flicking briefly aside.

“Forty-five years, give or take,” he says with a half-hearted shrug. Klaus’ eyebrows raise and he turns his head just enough so that he can catch Ben’s eyes. Ben shrugs.

“So, you’re, what, fifty-eight, then?” Klaus asks, leaning closer. Five eyes him.

“No. My consciousness is fifty-eight. My body seems to have reverted back to its thirteen year old state.” He pauses to mull the thought over in his head. “Delores kept saying the equations were off.” He pauses once more before snapping out of his daze. “Guess I missed the funeral, then,” he states.

“How do you know about that?” Luther asks, eyebrows knitting together.

“What part about the future do you not understand?” Five retorts, rolling his eyes. He sighs, takes another bite of his sandwich, and then he turns towards the door.

“Is that it?” Allison asks. “That all you have to say?”

Five peers back at her over the back of his shoulder. “What else is there to say? The circle of life,” says Five, and then he’s gone as quickly as he came, as quickly as he had disappeared previously, leaving them him in the heavy silence that falls.

There’s nothing else to be said, no answers to their questions, and Klaus stays sitting in the dining room even as everyone else filters out.

###

At least, Klaus thinks, that he hadn’t brought along Dave and Sadie with him.

Not with the way that everything spirals out of control, although expected, with arguments and a fight between Luther and Diego that surprises absolutely no one, and ends with Ben moaning over his beheaded statue and Klaus with what he’s sure is the beginning of a migraine.

Everyone seems eager to avoid one another after the funeral. Luther and Allison part ways and Vanya goes somewhere, Diego to another place, and Klaus lingers in the kitchen by the table, hands clasped upon it and looking absentmindedly out of the window.

“Well,” says Ben, sitting in his old seat. “At least we were all here for the funeral.”

Klaus snorts. He runs his hands through his hair. “No amount of drugs could have conjured that up,” he mutters, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands before groaning and slumping back in his chair. “What time is it?”

Ben hums for a moment. “Coming up for half ten,” he responds. For a moment Klaus debates hauling himself back up to his childhood bedroom and spending the night here, but the idea of going back in there makes him tense. The idea brings with it a sudden itch in his bones and memories of every hiding place he ever had in his bedroom.

Of course, temptation was not uncommon. What was one little pill? It would wear off and everyone would be none the wiser, but he would get a brief rest, a blissful handful of hours in which he can forget everything and feel so good.

But the image of Dave coming in with Sadie the next morning, and Saddie going up to Klaus’ room to get him while Dave introduces himself to everyone, nudging open the door and calling out excitedly “Daddy! Daddy!” and she’ll come up to Klaus, a mess on his bed, limbs tangled in his bedsheets, hanging over the edge of the bed, or maybe he’ll be on the floor, eyes open and staring blindly ahead, his lips tinted blue, skin either clammy or already cold to the touch. Maybe he’ll be convulsing, jerking oddly on the floor, gasping uselessly for air as he chokes on his own vomit, keening and whimpering pathetically, and she’ll shake him gently, and get upset when he doesn’t respond and keep scaring her with his weird noises and movements or lack thereof, and she’ll poke her head out of the bedroom and call, “Aba, Daddy’s sick!” And she’ll have that image stuck in her mind for years, forever, because he got careless and selfish.

He can hear her voice and imagine Dave’s rush to get her out of the room, his frenzied yells for an ambulance, and asking _why, why, why had he done that_? And he has no response.

It makes his throat close up, his eyes sting, and it brings him up onto his feet, out of the Academy, and smoking a cigarette as he waits for a taxi, foot tapping anxiously. He wants to go home, to his real home, to his fiancé and to his daughter, and he wants to get on with life unhindered as if tonight had never happened. He’ll deal with the Academy later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you enjoyed this part! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

"You're home early."

A sigh leaves Klaus' lips, one of instant relief, and he lets Dave's voice wash over him, soothing tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he says, shuffling in and peeling off his coat to hang it up. "Didn't think I'd keep my sanity if I stayed there overnight."

He drifts into the living room with the full intent of collapsing onto the couch with Dave and sprawling out across his lap, only to pause in his steps. He raises an eyebrow and Dave smiles innocently.

"She was upset that you left and wouldn't sleep," defends Dave, for stealing his lap is a snoring Sadie with her fluffy blanket thrown over her.

"And you tell me to put her to bed," Klaus retorts. He sits down carefully next to them, though, couch dipping with his weight, and he watches Sadie's face screw up and her fingers curl tighter into her blanket.

"It's the puppy eyes," Dave says. One of his hands, the one resting on Sadie's hip, turns upwards. Klaus slips his own hand into his.

"Are you okay?" Dave asks, voice hushed and soft. Klaus' eyes flick to the television where _Bambi_ plays at a low volume, close to the end of the film. Dave squeezes his hand.

"I think I get a gold medal in having the most dysfunctional family," he groans. "Luther thinks that one of us killed dad." Dave quirks an eyebrow. "Not that I've not thought of it, but still. It doesn't matter; I'm back, everything's A-okay," he dismisses, shaking his head. Dave eyes him with that look of his.

"Klaus..." Dave drawls off and Klaus avoids his gaze. Sadie shifts slightly.

"Aba?" She lifts her head, blinking blearily and peering out between long strands of hair. Dave raises his eyebrows at her, greeting her with a smile, and then her eyebrows furrow and she turns her head.

“Hey there, princ – _oof_.” His words get interrupted by a grunt as he finds Sadie suddenly very awake and against his chest, her head tucked under his chin, fingers tugging his shirt. “You never wake up this quickly when we need to go out,” he tells her, but his hands are quick to settle on her, keeping her close.

“She never wakes up that quickly for me – period!” Dave says with amusement. Klaus grins at him.

“What can I say?” He hums, standing up with a groan and bringing Sadie with him. “She just loves me – don’t you, princess? You love me more, right? Am I your favourite?” He ducks his head to catch her eyes, his eyebrows raised expectantly. A burst of giggles leave her lips, muffled slightly by her hand.

Dave rises up to his feet, extending a hand to run it along Klaus’ back. There’s a fond smile on his lips, something warm in his eyes as he looks at them both. “You’re great with her,” he says. Klaus’ cheeks warm slightly and he looks down at her. Dave draws his attention back to him though when he bumps his hip against his and when he turns to face him, he comes close, catching him in a gentle kiss.

Klaus melts into it wholly, feeling the tension that had built up earlier instantly seep out from his shoulders and his muscles, bring him back to reality, out of his muddled thoughts. He’s perfectly fine, and he has a responsibility now that he needs to focus on – multiple, actually. On Dave and Sadie and on himself. He has his own life now, and he can be the bigger person, work on that _responsible adult _shtick he ought to work on.

“_Gross_,” whines Sadie, pulling him and Dave apart. She looks at them with her face screwed up dramatically, head shaking.

“_Gross_?” Echoes Klaus. “Is that gross, huh?”

“Mhmm,” Sadie says. “Gross.”

“Is this gross?” He asks, and then he pecks Dave’s on the lips again, drawing out a squeal from Sadie. “Or is this? This?” He turns from Dave, planting kisses around her cheeks, her forehead, on her nose and on her chin. She tries, in vain, to turn her head away from him, giggling as she does, but Klaus lifts her off his hips and into the air so that she can’t hide her face against his chest. “Say it’s not gross,” he demands, “and then I’ll stop. Say it.”

“No!” She yelps, shaking her head. Klaus shares an exaggerated look with Dave.

“You know what we’ve got to do,” he says, and Dave grins, rounding to Sadie’s other side.

“You’ve got to say it,” Dave insists. Sadie shakes her head again, grinning.

“No!”

“In that case…” Both Dave and Klaus duck forwards to catch both of her cheeks in pecked kisses until she relents, squealing her victory.

“Ugh, my noodle arms can’t keep this up, down you go,” Klaus groans, lowering Sadie onto her feet. “You ought to be in bed, you – oh, no, don’t do that – stop that-“

She’s already turned the puppy dog eyes on at the mention of bed, her lower lip jutting out, eyes large and round and soft. Klaus slumps in defeat, throwing a desperate look at Dave who holds his hands up in defence.

“The movie,” she says, “it’s not done.”

“You can finish it in the morning – come on.” He reaches his hand out to take her and she does so sadly.

“I missed you, daddy.”

Klaus stills at her wavering tone, his heart heavy.

“She _missed_ you,” coos Ben, ever on Sadie’s side, and Klaus groans.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs. “Fine. This movie, alright? Then bed time.”

Her sad face instantly lights up. She hops up onto the couch, waiting for Klaus expectantly. Dave snickers.

“Hot chocolate?” He asks, watching Klaus trudge, defeat, after Sadie.

“Please,” he says, sounding rather dramatic, as if he’s sat down at a bar after a long day of work and has been offered a shot of vodka instead.

Sadie’s quick to huddle into Klaus’ side, with Klaus draping an arm over her and absentmindedly twirling her hair gently around his fingers. Dave hands him over his hot chocolate gently before sitting down next to him, thigh against thigh, and they all fell quiet, all intrigued by the cartoon playing out in front of them. Klaus sips at his hot chocolate and responds to Sadie’s occasional comment on the film or something entirely unrelated that seems to have just popped into her mind, and it’s nice. Exactly what Klaus needed.

Dave sets aside his mug when he’s finished his hot chocolate and then takes his hand in his, running his thumb over his knuckles. Klaus rests his head on his shoulder and Dave kisses the top of his head and the Academy’s long forgotten in favour of this moment. He can let his eyes slide shut and just revel in the feeling of Dave’s hand, fitting perfectly with his, and the weight of Sadie resting, nestled right up against his side, snoring quietly, and the sound of the film gently going on in the background mingling with Ben’s page-turning. It might as well be bliss, he thinks.

Then there’s a knock at his door. Klaus pries his suddenly heavy eyelids open to peer over at it, then shares a look with Dave. It’s late, and the only visitor they typically get is elderly Mrs Bauer every now and then, though she’s typically also asleep by now. Dave pries himself from Klaus, gently as to not awake Sadie, and goes up to the front door. From where Klaus is, he can’t see whoever’s at the door, but he can hear them.

“Is Klaus here?”

Dave stands, looking rather dumbfounded and flicking his gaze back to Klaus on the couch. “Uh, yes – why?”

“Let him in,” Klaus says, voice raised ever so slightly. He sits up, eyes on Sadie, ever aware of not waking her up as he moves. Dave steps aside and in walks Five, looking surprisingly tired though largely covering it up. He pauses to eye Dave first and foremost, looking him up and down, and then he turns to walk further inside only to pause again as he eyes Klaus and the sleeping child, with Klaus looking as if he’s been caught red-handed.

“What brings you to my humble abode?” Klaus asks. Dave shuts the door gently, wandering in after Five and looking no less confused.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he states, tucking his hands away into the pockets of his shorts. He glances briefly at Sadie. “If you have a minute.”

Klaus quirks an eyebrow at him, glances at Ben who shrugs helplessly. “Could be interesting,” he says, closing his book.

“Alright, just – give me a second,” Klaus mutters. He shifts his hands on Sadie, though with her already practically wrapped right around him it’s not overly difficult to lift her again. As he makes his way to the door leading to Sadie’s bedroom, he tips his head back to his fiancé and his brother. “Make yourself at home, I guess. Dave, that’s my fifty-eight year old brother, Five, if you were wondering.”

“Oh,” says Dave, looking a little lost in the middle of the living room. “Of course. Would you, uh, like a drink?”

Klaus leaves them to it, focusing instead on prying Sadie’s hands from his shirt to lay her down in his bed. Her face screws up in protest and she blinks her eyes open, hand reaching out and catching his hair. “Uh-uh,” Klaus hums, prying her hand away again. “It’s bed time for you, miss. No ifs or buts,” he tells her. He manages to get her beneath the blankets of her bed without much help from her, pulling it up to her chin.

“Read me a story?” She asks him, grasping the blankets and peering out from over them to watch him with pleading eyes. Klaus throws a brief glance back to the door leading the living room just as Dave appears in the doorway like a knight in shining armour. He offers him a smile, sliding up to his side and sitting on the edge of Sadie’s bed.

“Daddy’s got to talk to a friend quickly, alright? Pick a story and I’ll read it to you.”

Sadie pouts for a moment, eyes flicking between Klaus and Dave before nodding, as if giving Klaus permission to leave, and then she turns her attention to Dave. Klaus smiles ever so slightly and leans down to kiss Sadie’s forehead, murmuring a gentle “goodnight.” He rests a hand on Dave’s shoulder, too, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you,” he murmurs. Dave simply nods at him, squeezes his hand, and lets Klaus leave the room, gently closing the door behind him.

Five’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen, a cup of coffee nursed between his hands. Klaus slides into one of the bar stools opposite him, propping his chin up on one hand and staring at him for a moment before speaking up.

“How did you find my house?” He asks. Five shrugs, glancing briefly at his coffee.

“It was surprisingly easy,” he says. Klaus snorts.

“That’s reassuring.”

Silence stretches between them for a moment. Five nods his head towards Sadie’s bedroom door where Dave’s voice can be heard talking to her. “How old?” He asks. Klaus smiles slightly.

“Six as of three months ago,” he says.

“She’s cute,” Five says. Klaus nods his head in agreement.

“And she knows it,” he says with a small laugh.

“Vanya’s book never mentioned anything about a marriage,” Five comments. Klaus hums.

“Funny story, actually. I didn’t tell any of them until earlier today – they didn’t know. And plus, we’re just engaged. Still working out all the kinks and stuff – who would’ve thought planning a wedding when you don’t have Allison’s budget and planners is actually kind of hard?” He jokes lightly. Five eyes him for a moment, eyes on his ring.

“You’re not married yet?” He reiterates. Klaus raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, no? Don’t tell me something’s happened and you’re one of those people that don’t agree with, like, living together before marriage,” Klaus groans. Five blinks a few times as if trying to dislodge a train of thought, then shakes his head.

“No. No, it’s not that,” he says. He looks away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happy for you.”

Klaus, after brushing over whatever slipped Five up, smiles. “Thanks,” he murmurs, running his finger over the silver band on his finger. “Who would’ve thought that I’d end up like this, huh? The universe works in mysterious ways.” He taps his fingers on the counter, then leans close. “Can I help you with anything? I’m sure she’d love to see you and talk your ear off, but she’s weaselled her way out of bedtime long enough now.”

Five shakes his head. “No, no. I have to talk to you, Klaus. Or, I want you to listen. I already spoke to Vanya about this, but she doesn’t believe me.”

Klaus quirks an eyebrow at him, not so subtly turning his head to catch Ben’s eyes. “Vanya’s, like, the most down to Earth one out of all of us,” he states. Five stares at him.

“But she’s got no reason to believe me,” he says.

“And I do?”

Five’s eyes briefly glance to Sadie’s bedroom door and whatever remains unspoken from Five has Klaus sitting upright, protectiveness coiling in his stomach at the many implications behind that gaze.

They move to the living room to sit more comfortably, Klaus considerably more on edge now, his hands clasped together tightly.

“When I jumped forwards and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?” Five asks, and his eyes avoid Klaus’, going distant and unfocused. Klaus toys with his bottom lip. He shakes his head.

“I don’t.”

“There was nothing,” says Five. “Absolutely nothing.” He continues before Klaus can even question what he means by that. “As far as I could tell, I was the only person that was left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but… I found out when.”

Klaus leans forwards, urging Five on when he pauses, tongue dashing across his lips. He brings his gaze up from the floor, focusing on Klaus with a sudden intensity. “We have eight days until the world ends, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Klaus leans back in his chair as if the statement had physically hit him, shoving him backwards. Neither he nor Five breaks eye contact, though, Five waiting to see if Klaus might call bullshit on him, but there’s something in his eyes that gives Klaus pause. Then he nods. “Okay,” he says, running his hand over his jaw. “Okay. Well… what was it like? From the beginning?”

Five seems to relax a fraction, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “It was a mess,” he states. “Everything was in ruins, everything was on fire. I survived off scraps; canned food, cockroaches, anything I could find. When they said that Twinkies had an endless shelf life, that was a load of bullshit. But you do what it takes to survive – you adapt, in that situation. We had to, if we wanted to live.”

Klaus quirks an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were the only person left alive?”

Five eyes him. He eyes his coffee. “I don’t suppose you have anything stronger?” He asks, lifting his coffee mug slightly. Klaus looks at Ben, then turns his head to the kitchen. Typically, they don’t keep a lot of alcohol in the house – the joys of having an ex-alcoholic and a six year old in the house – and so he shrugs.

“Maybe some fancy champagne,” he says. Five runs his tongue along his teeth and then dismisses the offer with the shake of his head.

“Never mind. I should’ve guessed it was a dumb question.”

Klaus shrugs. “I’m flattered you’d come to me when you want alcohol. I’d come to me, too. Just not at the moment. But do go on, bro. I’m listening.”

Five sighs, draining the last of his coffee and then setting aside the cup on the coffee table. “There was… one person,” he says. “Her name was Delores. She kept me company. I could bounce my equations off of her, and she understood. It was just her and I.”

“Well, uh, I’m glad you weren’t alone, at least,” Klaus says. “For that long – I can’t imagine.”

Five grunts his acknowledgement. “I spent a long time there, trying to perfect the equations to get back here. It wasn’t as simple as just jumping back.”

“I can’t imagine it would have been,” Klaus agrees. He understands, like the rest of them would be able to, sans Vanya, that their powers often weren’t trustworthy things. Especially not Ben’s, certainly not Five’s. Five stares at him for a moment and Klaus wonders if he had gotten that assumption of Vanya not understanding right. “And the whole thirteen year old body thing – equations?”

Five bobs his head in a nod. “Something must have been off. The most important thing is that I got back, though.”

Klaus nods. He falls silent, looking away from him as he tries to wrap his mind around the situation. Eight days, he said, though the clock in his kitchen ticks steadily ever closer to midnight, and he’s seen Five cast glances to it every now and then as if he’s hyperaware of time, too. Eight days until the complete annihilation of everyone on Earth, apparently.

The idea, of course, was ludicrous. Something that only Klaus could come up with when he’s high and paranoid or something, and he can easily tell why Vanya didn’t believe him. Klaus isn’t sure he believes him, either.

“You got any idea how it happens?” He asks.

Five presses his lips together and glances away. One of his hands moves away to his side, dipping inside his pocket. “I… I might have one lead,” he says. “It’ll be too late to follow it tonight, but tomorrow… maybe.”

Klaus hums, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Five eyes him. “I think it’s a person that does it. Or multiple,” he states.

“What? Like an – an army?”

Five shakes his head. “Not an army, no. But… something, someone-“

“That doesn’t tell me anything, Five,” Klaus states. He’s hiding something and Klaus can tell. He’s dancing around a subject that he doesn’t want to address, but as soon as Klaus implies that he might confront him, he sits up, eyes turning defensive, cold. He’s hiding something that Klaus won’t be able to get out of him now. “But, I think you’re right. It’s late, and you look like shit, to be honest. Understandable, considering you’ve just been talking about the end of everything. How about you stay here for the night?” He offers. “I’ve, uh, not got a spare bed, but I’ve fallen asleep plenty of times on the couch before and it’s not as bad as you might think.”

Five hesitates, eying him, then looks around his living room. His shoulders slump. “Alright,” he says, and Klaus grins.

“There you go,” he says. “I’ll grab you some blankets and a pillow, right, and in the morning if you want to talk some more and go follow that lead of yours, I’m all ears.”

He drifts away from him, heading into his bedroom for a quick moment to steal a couple of pillows and a blanket, bringing them back to the living room and setting up the couch.

“Do you believe me?” Five asks him, hovering by his side and watching his hands smooth out the blanket. Klaus doesn’t pause.

“Yes,” he says, glancing briefly at him from the corner of his eye. He isn’t sure if he does. He doesn’t think Ben does, either. But Five looks one disbelief away from disappearing and Klaus’ stomach twists at the prospect of scaring away Five after only just getting him back. And plus, the Five he remembers wasn’t irrational. Had he thought that time travel might be messing with his mind, he would have brought up that possibility. He would have considered it.

But at the same time, maybe this isn’t the Five he knew. He isn’t the same Klaus that Five knew, either. He’s still his brother, though, and either it turns out that his mind is muddled and nothing bad is going to happen, or something bad is going to happen but he helps Five make an attempt to stop it.

Five nods his head, then, looking aside.

“Although I found a copy of Vanya’s book, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect if I returned around the time that I have. It was weird to read about what you had done after I had gone and what happened. It seems things went pretty south.”

Klaus snorts. Ben scoffs. “Yeah,” he says. “They did.”

“And Ben…”

Klaus does pause at that, eyes flicking to Ben, sitting ever unseen by everyone. “It was bad,” he states, looking back down at his hands as he fixes the blanket on the couch. He supposes it was Ben’s death was like the last nail in the coffin.

“Are you sober?”

Klaus gives him a look, face screwing up. “What?”

“Are you sober?” Five repeats. Does weed even count? He doesn’t think so.

“I’ve not overdosed in a long time, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, taking a step away from the couch. Klaus knows what he’s asking.

Sadie’s bedroom door creaks open as Dave slips out of it, silently closing it behind him. Klaus grabs the opportunity to turn away from Five, smiling at Dave.

“Get her to sleep?” He asks, stepping around the couch and to his side. Dave nods.

“After a retelling of _Sleeping Beauty_, yeah,” he hums. He looks between him and Five. “I hope you got to talk about what you needed to.”

“Oh, yeah. Brotherly bonding an all that,” Klaus says. “He’s gonna kick it here tonight, though.”

“That’s fine,” Dave says, offering a smile to Five. “As long as you’re fine with a six year old demanding pancakes in the morning.”

Five snorts. “No different to living with Klaus, then,” he comments, and while Dave laughs, Klaus gasps.

“Plus, it’s nice to actually meet one of Klaus’ siblings,” Dave sighs.

“Patience, Dave, is a virtue,” Klaus says, nudging his side. Dave raises an eyebrow sceptically at him. “We’ll let you sleep then, dear brother. Come get us if you need something, hmm?”

Five nods at him, and Klaus is pleased to see that he does look a little more relaxed, and so he adds, “we can talk more in the morning if you want,” just on the off chance that he has the idea of running away in the middle of the night. Five nods once more, glancing down at the makeshift bed in front of him. “Thanks,” he utters, and with that, Klaus takes Dave’s arm and brings him into their bedroom. He all but collapses onto their bed, throwing his arms out and moaning. Dave perches himself on the edge of the bed, peering at him with raised eyebrows.

“Alright there?”

“I just expected a normal funeral,” he says. “Apparently, I expected too much.”

Dave snorts. “Well, Five seems nice,” he offers. Klaus peels himself off the bed to sit upright. He rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes, slumping, and lazily undoes the buttons to his shirt and throws it across the room. “_Klaus_.”

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” Klaus groans. He turns to look at Dave, then watches as Dave’s hands go to his shirt to tug it off. Klaus reaches his hands out to help with a small grin, tugging Dave’s shirt over his head. Dave, for his part, seems largely unfazed by Klaus’ grin and mischievous eyes, simply giving him a look.

“I’ve gone hours without seeing you,” Klaus defends as he comes close, resting his chin atop Dave’s shoulders. And then, imitating Sadie; “I _missed_ you.”

Dave snorts, shoving him back onto the bed.

“Get your beauty sleep, princess,” Dave says, standing up so he’s able to shimmy out of his jeans, setting them aside in a neater fashion than Klaus does, kicking his pants aside to join his shirt on the floor before crawling under the heavy duvet on their bed.

“Hmm, I dunno, I kind of like how you said that,” he hums, voice high pitched and mock-flirting. Dave rolls his eyes, resolutely laying down on the far end of the bed only for Klaus to shimmy up to his side. “I love you.”

Dave snorts. He reaches out a hand to settle onto Klaus’ and then he turns around to face him. “I love you too, Klaus,” he assures.

“You do?”

“I _like_-like you,” Dave emphasises to a widely grinning Klaus whom reaches forwards to set his hands on Dave’s cheeks.

“Put that in your wedding vows, please.”

“Already have,” Dave tells him. Klaus hums his approval, swooping forwards to kiss his cheek.

“You’re such a romantic, David,” Klaus murmurs. Dave scoffs gently, swiftly turning his head when Klaus goes to kiss his cheek again and catching him on the lips instead. Klaus certainly doesn’t mind, lifting himself closer to Dave and kissing him like he had the second time they had kissed – less uncertain and hesitant than the first, something excitable and giddy and eager to simply be close to Dave, to feel his chest warm beneath his, heart beating against his.

One of Dave’s hands lift out of the maze of bedsheets draped over them, searching for Klaus’ cheek and running his thumb along his cheekbone affectionately, and then running his hand up and through his hair, brushing thick curls back from his face, tucking a few back behind his ears. He’s ever so slightly breathless when Klaus pulls back, lowering himself to tuck his head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder and peppering his skin there with gentle kisses.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me once we’re married. Tied the knot. Legal soulmates,” Klaus hums, voice humming against his skin. Dave’s fingers intertwine with his and squeeze gently.

“Good,” he says, and Klaus can’t help but smile.

He could give a list of reasons for how Dave manages to get him to smile. The things he says, for one. His gentle touches, his hearty laugh, his sarcastic comments, his drunk dancing, the voices he puts on for Sadie’s stories, the way includes Ben, the way he comes up from behind Klaus and wraps his arms around his waist and sets his chin on his shoulder. How he sings when he cooks when he things Klaus isn’t listening, the way he looks when Klaus catches him giving in to Sadie’s puppy dog eyes, just as helpless as Klaus is. The way he looks when he falls asleep on the couch with her on his lap, fast asleep against his chest too, or the way his eyes light up when Klaus walks into the room, the way he just knows what to say to Klaus to make things seem perfectly fine.

He opens his eyes just to catch a glimpse of Dave, freckles splattered like paint across his face, his hair untidy and curled slightly, eyes closed and a small smile on his face that stretches wider when Klaus kisses the underside of his jaw, when he slips one of his legs between his and rests his forehead on his shoulder.

Klaus feels perfectly content here. He knows Sadie’s fast asleep with her night light on and her favourite unicorn teddy tucked tightly against her chest, her hair somehow becoming a lion’s mane as she sleeps. Dave’s heart beats a steady rhythm beneath his ear, meeting his hand that rests on his chest, and Dave’s hand weighs comfortingly heavy on his shoulder, as if the idea of letting go of him is unimaginable.

No, he never imagined this kind of a situation would happen for him – and that he’d happily settle down into it, either. But he doesn’t think he’d have it any other way.

“I love you,” Klaus murmurs, voice gentle in the dim light of their room. Dave hums.

“I love you too, Klaus. Get some sleep,” he tells him, ducking to kiss his head and squeeze his shoulder, and Klaus finds it easy to chase sleep with Dave with him like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just the life he deserves *clenches fist*  
If you enjoyed, feel free to leave a kudos or a comment - I greatly appreciate it and I love hearing your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

There’s a chill in his bones when he wakes up. One Klaus is well familiar with, one that has nestled itself right into the marrow of his bones, spreading throughout him like a disease, heavy and thick and all encompassing. It shakes him, rattles him around on the mattress beneath him, and his lungs, too, rattle as he pants for breath that seems to not want to cooperate with him.

He has to blink furiously to rid the vision of grey. Grey walls, with cracks spider-webbing through them, deep, dust filled things, with cobwebs caught in every crevice, stretched out from surface to surface, corner to corner and, gradually, growing closer to Klaus. The world morphs quickly from a cold, dark corner instead to a mattress beneath him, a duvet falling down his side, and a hand running through his hair.

“It was a nightmare, Klaus, you’re alright. You’re alright.”

His heart hammers against his rib cage but seems to react to Dave’s soft voice, calming a fraction. Of course he’s alright. Of course it was nothing but a dream.

He sinks back into his mattress, forces his limbs to unwind, and Dave’s hands, warm and gentle, melt the tension from his shoulders. They seep warmth into his bones and gradually they threaten and chase away the frost coating his bones, pushes the darkness back into the corner it resides in in the back of his mind, for now set aside. His lungs defrost themselves and begin to work as they ought to, and his hand that had ended up in one of Dave’s stops shaking enough so that he can squeeze Dave’s hand.

Dave moves his hand from his hair down to rest on his waist, and then he tugs him forwards a little, urging him to come closer, and Klaus does. He closes the little gap between them in the bed so that he can settle his head on his chest, his ear above his heart, steadily thumping below, and he keeps his eyes open to watch the way his eyes glow warm like honey when the light streaming in from the gap in curtains by the windows hits him, washing over his face. Dave offers a smile to him, gentle and warm, and his fingers trace shapes lightly over his skin, and he does so until Klaus has visibly calmed, melting into Dave, able to let his eyes slip shut and not see hollow cheeks and bruised eyes.

He brings up a hand, resting it over Dave’s, fingers curling around his and then moving their hands to cup his cheek, nuzzling his cheek into his touch. “Good start to the day,” Klaus mutters, sighing. Dave’s thumb runs over his cheek gently, lips twitching upwards.

“It’s alright,” he hushes, ever so gentle, and Klaus lets his voice wash over him. He lets him chase away the chill, those cold, dark flashes from him, and he focuses instead on the warmth of his skin and the beating of his heart, of their bedroom, of the present. For a while they simply lay like that, with one another, quiet, calm, until Klaus fears either one of them might fall back to sleep. A glance at the alarm clock tells him it's past eight, and so he decides that it's for the best that they get up.

Especially when he hears Sadie chatting loudly to Five in the living room.

"Oh, shit, she's harassing our guest," Klaus groans, peeling himself away from Dave. He stumbles around the bedroom in a frantic search for some sweatpants and a shirt to throw on, as does Dave, and Klaus hurries out and into the living room. 

Five is, evidently, still there, which makes Klaus feel a little better, seeing that he hadn't done a runner in the middle of the night, and he's dressed, the blanket folded on the couch with the pillow sat neatly atop it. He's holding a freshly brewed coffee that Klaus wonders how he hadn't heard it being made, and Sadie's there, holding a plastic cup - that she decidedly can not reach from the cupboards by herself - of juice carefully in her hands, while a piece of paper dangles from her fingertips, which she thrusts at Five.

Five leans down to study the paper, and he arches an eyebrow at her. "Yes, and that one's me, huh? Yes, it's very good, Sadie." His head snaps up and he stands straight as Klaus comes closer, setting his hands onto Sadie's shoulders.

"Did you wake Five up, princess?" He asks, leaning close. Sadie's quick to turn to look at him, holding up the paper and very nearly spilling her juice everywhere had Five not reached out a hand and plucked the cup from her grip before it had the chance to spill.

"No," says Five, "she's fine."

Eying the paper, Klaus can't help a smile at the sight of a figure in blue crayon labelled _Five._

"Hmm, do I believe him?" He hums, and Sadie nods. Klaus lifts his gaze to Five again. "Glad to see you stuck around for the night," he states. Five shrugs, looking at his coffee.

"Yeah, well, you were right. I needed the rest," he dismisses. 

"Well, in that case, can I tempt you with some breakfast? We have waffles," Klaus says with a smile. He glances to the side, watching as Dave comes to join them, and he bends down, hands going under her arms, and he heaves her up. 

"Klaus does make good waffles," he says to Five, eyebrows raised. Five, who looks a little stumped, as if he's been thrown out of his loop by the whole situation, and has looked so since he arrived. Nonetheless, he nods.

"Sure," he says, then his lips twitch. "Never thought you'd be the one to cook," he comments, and Klaus' own lips curl upwards as memories of smoke and fire alarms flash in his mind.

"I'm just full of surprises," he states, and he gestures to the little breakfast bar for them to sit. "Dave, dear, I mean this in a loving way – he has a curse set on him; he can’t cook breakfast food. He just can’t."

Dave frowns. "Ouch."

"I still love you, though."

Dave snorts. "You're not wrong, though," he agrees with a small smile and nod of his head. 

"Give me ten minutes and you can try my culinary skills for yourself," he states, and he begins to rummage around in the kitchen as Dave sets Sadie onto a chair, handing her the juice back. 

"It was quite adorable," says Ben, suddenly right beside Klaus and making him jump half way out of his skin, "watching Five with Sadie. He looked terrified. Who would have thought he has a soft spot for kids. Suppose he still looks like one, but still.”

Klaus snorts quietly, sparing his brother a brief glance. He does seem arguably soft around Sadie and he’s glad for that. He nods his head to the living room. “Come on,” he says, and he takes Sadie’s hand as she slides off her chair, “we’ll go sit down.”

Five follows them, nursing his coffee, and he takes a seat. Sadie goes straight to the mess of paper on the coffee table, rummaging through them with a mission in mind before holding up a piece of paper, looking to Five for approval.

“I drew this,” she states. “Of daddy and aba.”

Five tips his head. “Very good.”

“They fell asleep during _Frozen_,” she says. Five eyes him.

“How terrible,” he says and Klaus gasps, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t encourage her,” he argues, but Sadie’s already nodding her head in eager agreement. If Klaus didn’t know better, he would say Five hid a sly smirk by taking a sip of his coffee. Sadie turns back to the table, rummaging through the other paper on the table. Five already expects her to turn to him, brandishing a new masterpiece.

“Who’s that?” He asks, and Klaus glances up. Realisation floods through him and he sits upright, mouth open, only for Sadie to beat him to it.

“That’s Uncle Ben,” she states proudly, grinning. She points at the seemingly empty armchair where Ben, unseen, resides, looking up from his book. “He sits there.”

Five’s eyes bounce to the chair and he raises an eyebrow. “Oh,” he says, looking to Klaus, “does he?”

Klaus’ cheeks flush warm and he sinks back into his couch. Ben laughs. “Sold out by your own daughter,” he taunts, and Klaus hisses quietly in his direction.

“Well,” he says, “that’s a whole situation that we don’t really need to talk about, I think-“

“Is he there just now?” Five asks, interrupting him.

“If only I could knock something over,” Ben sighs. “His coffee, or something. It’d be funny.”

Klaus ignores him. He groans, shoulders slumping in defeat, melting back into the couch. “Yes, he’s there right now,” he states, waving a hand in his deceased brother’s direction.

Five looks at the armchair for several long moments and Ben eyes him in return, elbows on his knees.

“He blinked,” says Ben, leaning back in the chair. “I win.”

Klaus snorts. Five leans back, looking at his coffee and then he nods. “And does he have anything to say?” He asks. Klaus raises an eyebrow.

“He lost.”

“He says hi,” Klaus shrugs. “But I need to go check Dave hasn’t burned the kitchen down.” He rises quickly to his feet, glances briefly at Sadie, content to try and make a neat pile of her drawings on the table, and then he hurries into the kitchen, sliding up to Dave’s side.

“Should I take over?” He asks, eying his cooking.

“I think I’m actually doing pretty well so far,” he states, grinning. Klaus hums, eying the few waffles that he’s plated so far.

“Are those ones done?”

Dave nods, waving a hand dismissively. He picks up the smaller ones on the Elsa and Anna plate, then picks up the second plate, bringing both to the living room and setting them in front of Sadie and Five respectively.

“I’ve got sugar and syrup if you want to add it,” he says. Then, to Sadie, he sets her paper aside and nods at her own food. “Eat up, darling.”

“This is fine,” says Five, swapping the coffee for the food. “Thank you.”

Klaus waves away his thanks, returning instead to Dave’s side and wrapping his arms around his torso from behind. “Hey handsome,” he purrs with a grin, following easily as he plates more waffles. “I think you’re getting the hang of this cooking edible food thing.”

“About time,” says Dave with a snort. “I can only watch so many hours of those cooking shows you like.”

“They’re good!” Klaus defends easily. He slips away from Dave to grab a waffle off a plate, eagerly biting into it and then mulling over the taste. He hums, jabbing it in Dave’s direction. “I give it a seven. Needs more sugar.”

“You have the ability to get some and sprinkle some on,” Dave states.

“I shouldn’t have to, though,” replies Klaus, taking another bite. “’s all about the recipe. Did you add love to it?”

Dave rolls his eyes fondly. “Come on,” he says, finishing up and grabbing his own cup of coffee set aside, “let’s sit.”

Klaus picks at his food, letting his gaze bounce between Sadie, Dave, Five and Ben as if they might be doing something interesting for him to watch. Preferably something more interesting than the new ghost that had suddenly decided to materialise in the room.

“It’s an ugly one,” sighs Ben, sparing the ghost a glance over Klaus’ shoulder, and Klaus sighs. He isn’t even sure why. No one died in this apartment and yet they always seem to sense that Klaus is there and they flood to him like moths to a flame. Horrifically deformed, loud, annoying moths.

Excusing himself, Klaus stands up, takes Sadie’s empty plate with him, and heads to the kitchen. He’s browsing through the cupboards, debating whether or not he can get a quick smoke in, when Five wanders up, setting his plate on the side.

“Hope that was alright for you,” Klaus says, grabbing the plate to slide it into the dishwasher.

“It was,” says Five, lingering for a moment. “Thank you, Klaus. For letting me stay the night and for breakfast.”

Klaus shrugs. “Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m the family street rat, can’t have you stealing my title, huh?” He jokes and Five doesn’t laugh. Klaus shoves a cupboard closed with a sigh, turning to lean his hips back against the counter.

“You’ve got something good here,” says Five, and Klaus nods eagerly, a small smile tugging his lips. “And I’m happy for you.”

“Well, thanks, bro,” Klaus says sheepishly. “But now you’re stuck being an uncle. She likes you.”

Five snorts softly. “She’s a good kid.”

Klaus hums. “You’re welcome here whenever, you know,” says Klaus. Five eyes him for a moment before replying with a small nod. “So, bro, your plans for today – what are they? Gonna follow that lead you mentioned?”

Five presses his lips together, one hand dipping into his pocket. “I believe so,” he says with a nod.

“Could you do with some help? I’m notorious for stopping apocalypses.”

Five doesn’t look convinced. Klaus grins. “I should be able to do it,” he says. Klaus frowns.

“What even is the lead?” He asks. Five shifts from foot to foot and then pulls his hand out of his pocket. Klaus startles, hurrying to step in front of him and turn to look around in case Sadie might have snuck up. She hasn’t, though, and so he relaxes ever so slightly at the sight of an eye casually held in Five’s fingers.

“Can I ask whose that is?” Klaus asks. “And why you just so happen to have an eye?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” says Five, and then he slides it back into his pocket. “It was there in the apocalypse and I believe it belongs to the person who ended everything.”

Klaus hums thoughtfully. “Can’t think of anyone I know that’s lost an eye recently,” he says. Five gives him a look. “But can I help you find it?”

“I was going to go to the lab it was created in and try and find who it was made for,” says Five. Klaus raises an eyebrow.

“I’m very persuasive,” he states. “I can help.”

Five eyes him thoughtfully, lips pursed, and then he nods. “Alright, yes,” he sighs. “Come on, we’ll leave now.”

“Now? Let me get changed, at least,” Klaus says hurriedly, taking a few steps backwards and out of the kitchen.

“Wear something professional,” says Five. Klaus frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks with a scoff. Five raises an eyebrow. “Fair point.”

Klaus ducks quickly into the bedroom, fumbling in his wardrobe before finding what he deems, by society’s standards, professional. He ties half of his hair back, too, away from his face, and he begrudgingly forgoes any eyeliner or glitter despite how dull he looks without it.

Five drifts into the room. “You look like a normal person, for once,” he comments. Klaus snorts.

“Excuse me, you’ve been back for, like, less than twenty-four hours. Maybe I dress like this every day.”

Five raises an eyebrow sceptically.

“How about you tell me what your plan is for this, then,” he requests, sitting on the edge of his bed. Five shrugs.

“I was going to go in by myself, but on second thought, having you there might be better for me. I still look like a thirteen year old. They might not take me seriously by myself.” He pauses, looking thoughtful. “You can pretend to be my father, then.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow. “Am I adopting you?”

“It’s just for this,” Five states, turning back to face him. “And don’t get ahead of yourself – it’s a one time thing and I don’t want to hear you acting like that again.” Klaus smiles slyly at him. “I’ll do most of the talking. You just need to back me up.”

Klaus hums. “Sounds easy enough, son. Do we need a backstory? Did I have you, like, really young? Misguided and rebellious, and your mother – that _slut_ – she just dropped you in my arms and left?”

Five screws his face up in judgement. “Please, keep that mouth closed.”

“That’s rude,” Klaus mutters, but he rises to his feet.

“_Mein Schatz_,” says Klaus, drifting over to Dave, sitting by Sadie, “I’m going to go help Five for a bit. We’re on a mission. Think you can handle this one for a while?” He asks, draping himself over Dave and pressing his cheek against the top of his head. Dave reaches a hand up to find Klaus’, gently squeezing it.

“Of course,” he returns, trying to look up at him through his eyelashes. “Stay safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Ugh, you’re boring,” groans Klaus, but he leans down to peck his lips, and then does it again when he’s not satisfied. Then he turns to Sadie. “You be good for aba now, yeah? Or,” he drops his voice to a whisper by her ear, “I might just have to take your sweeties away.” He leans back when she squeals in protest, shaking her head.

“I’ll be good!” She tells him, a little grin toying her lips and Klaus returns it.

“Good.” He ruffles her hair and then leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you,” she says, all sweet and happily, and Klaus lingers for a moment just to see her little smile, and then he reluctantly pulls away and goes to the door, throwing a coat on as he goes.

“Lead the way, Five-o,” he says, and Five does.

###

The lab is some large, intimidating, futuristic-looking building that Klaus doesn’t like. There’s just something off about it that he can’t quite place and he’s all too happy to let Five lead the way and do the talking instead. He sits quietly, trying to encompass what he thinks a serious, professional businessman is like, one leg crossed over the other, face set in stone. He thinks he’s doing a good job, too, because the man Five’s trying to intimidate doesn’t glance much at Klaus. Then again, he’s probably just preoccupied with the thirteen year old threatening to smash his head against the wall.

“I just can’t give you the records without the patient’s consent,” Mr Bigs reiterates, frustration clear in his words. He turns to Klaus, almost pleadingly. “You must understand that, sir. I can’t hand these forms over to your son without the consent.”

Klaus hums his acknowledgement. He sits up a little straighter, hurriedly thinking over what to say while his eyes bounce around the room. Five’s verbal abuse seems to have done very little to actually sway the man into letting them see the records, and he seems pretty darn set in his argument. Klaus doubts there’s much he could say that would get them the records either, but he’s got to try at least.

“Well, what about my consent?” He asks, standing up and stretching ever so slightly. The man’s eyebrows furrow together, confusion fleeting across his face.

“I’m sorry?” He says. “I don’t think I understand-“

“You need consent,” says Klaus. “Well, you didn’t have consent when you…” He trails off, voice becoming choked up as he turns to look at Five. “When you put your hands on my son.”

Both Mr Bigs and Five look surprised at that statement, giving Klaus odd looks. “I didn’t touch your son,” says Mr Bigs, slowly, as if he thinks Klaus is delusional and needs it spelled out for him.

“Then explain his swollen lip,” Klaus insists.

“He doesn’t have-“

Before he can finish that sentence, Klaus turns around, a hand risen in the air, and then he brings it down on Five, who lets out a harsh gasp and turns to nurse his face, blinking in shock and holding back anger. Klaus turns quickly to the man again, setting his hands on the desk. “The name,” he says. “I want it now, please.”

Mr Bigs looks vaguely horrified. “You’re crazy,” he accuses. Klaus smiles. He looks around the room for something he could use to make this worse in any kind of way. There are paper weights on his desk, a shit ton of paper, a picture frame, a snow globe. He reaches for the snow globe, looking up at Mr Bigs, and then he smiles sweetly and smashes it against his head. It shatters almost instantly, glass, glitter and water raining down on him, and he grinds his teeth together against the pain that greets him, hissing between his teeth.

Mr Bigs and Five stare at him with disbelief, eyes wide. Klaus tips his head to the side in an attempt to try and dissuade a drop of blood from falling into his eye. Mr Bigs mutters something, reaching for his phone to call security, and Klaus lashes out quickly to take it from him.

“There’s been an attack,” he blurts , “in Mr Bigs office, and we need security now!”

He throws the receiver aside carelessly, leaning heavily once more on the table and raising an eyebrow at Mr Bigs. “I can send them away if you just let us find out who that little eye belongs to,” he says. “Or the security can come running up here and see that you savagely beat me and my poor son.” He wrinkles his face up in mock pain and then grins.

Mr Bigs blinks, swallowing dryly and looking anxiously to the door. “Fine,” he says, gritting his teeth.

###

Five is pissed. That much is obvious and, to be honest, it’s fair enough. The eye has no good information to lead them to the bringer of the apocalypse. Outside the lab, Five paces, his teeth grinding together.

“Hey, bro, you did what you could,” Klaus offers him. “You just got to wait for them to come for it, I guess.”

Five sighs heavily, shaking his head. “There’s not time to wait, Klaus,” he stresses. “There’s a week and this is the only lead I have.”

“I know, Five, I know,” Klaus says, taking a hesitant step closer. “But for all we know, it’ll come tomorrow. It’s a pretty specific thing, too. The only thing you really can do, unless you can find another lead, is wait.”

Five looks thoroughly unsatisfied with this idea. He looks away, eyes going vaguely distant. He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Thank you for coming,” he mutters. Klaus offers him a grin, nudging him.

“No problem-o, Five,” he says. “Us bros got to stick together.”

Five huffs a breath. “I ought to do something,” he mutters, and Klaus raises an eyebrow.

“Can I help again?”

Five shakes his head. “This one is personal,” he says. Klaus’ curiosity jumps at that.

“Personal?” He echoes. “Pray tell.”

Five eyes him, pressing his lips together. Then he relents. “I wasn’t alone in the apocalypse,” he states. Klaus nods. “There was a woman. Her name was Delores.” Klaus leans closer, watching as Five takes on an almost fond expression. “I was with her for over thirty years.”

“Thirty years?” Klaus blows out a breath, shaking his head. “Damn, that’s impressive, Five. Is she… like, kicking around here?”

Five nods. “She should be,” he utters. “I’m going to go see her.”

“You know what? I’m proud of you. You go get your woman,” Klaus grins, and he takes a step away before turning back to face him. “You know, you’re always welcome at my house, Five. If you need somewhere to stay any night, tomorrow, whenever. My home’s always open.”

Five’s gaze lingers on him, then he bobs his head in a nod. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and then he steps away into space. Klaus lets out a sigh, unbuttons his top button and runs the back of his hand over his forehead, and then he begins to walk home.

###

“What happened?” Dave asks, one hand holding his jaw to tilt his head towards the light, eyes narrowed to take in the mess on his forehead.

“Oh, not much, just a snow globe,” Klaus quips lightly. Dave gives him an odd look before taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom, setting him down while looking for a cloth.

“Is Five alright? Did you get what you were looking for?”

“Nah,” he says with a sigh. “It’s a… long story, to say the least. He’s looking for something that doesn’t _technically_ exist yet, and he’s pissed about that. But _now_ – get this – he’s going to go get his lady lover, or something. I think that’ll be good for him. He needs to settle, needs someone to calm him, or something.”

Dave hums, gently wiping away glitter and blood from his forehead. “As long as nothing went particularly bad,” he comments. Klaus shakes his head minutely.

“Home sweet home,” he says. “Glad to be back. Where’s Sadie?”

“Taking a nap,” Dave says. “She was tired from staying up last night.”

“We’re too weak. She flashes those puppy dog eyes and I just cave,” Klaus says. “She even has Five weak for her!”

“It’s her power,” says Dave. “No one can resist her.”

“You know,” Klaus begins, suddenly going serious. “I would rob a bank for her if she gave me those puppy dog eyes.”

Dave snorts. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“I would sell my soul for that girl.”

Dave dries his forehead gently. “The cut’s not too bad,” he murmurs. “The water must have made it look as if it was bleeding more.”

“I’m just running out of blood.”

Dave gives him a look. They both stand, though, and head into the living room, and Klaus falls onto the couch beside Dave. He wraps his arms around his torso, rests his head on his chest, and listens to his heart beat beneath his ear as he presses play on the television and a movie starts up, volume low.

He’s content like this. To simply be near Dave, to not need to fill the quiet with rambling and chatter. Dave curls his hair around his fingers gently, consistently, and then he shifts on the couch, laying down, and Klaus follows him down, resting on his chest with their legs intertwined. He doesn’t care much about whatever it is Dave is idly watching on the television, content enough to close his eyes and just be there, and he reaches a hand up, fingers flexing, until Dave takes his hand and slips his fingers between his. And at some point, Dave’s breathing evens out beneath him, and so does Klaus’.

He wakes up very briefly. Something shuffles behind him, a weight curling in to join him and Dave napping on the couch, and he thinks he catches a sight of curly hair before sleep takes him back down, lulled by the sound of Ben turning pages in his book.

Ben has to admit, he’s pretty content like this too. Although not being able to interact with the world sucks, he’s happy to settle down in his designated armchair and watch whatever television is put on (except for horror, but he and Klaus put down that rule ages ago that neither of them could tolerate horror and Dave’s never put anything like that on.) He’s happy to overlook the two of them, occasionally getting up to peer into Sadie’s room, because the girl’s managed to grow on him without even being able to see him. Maybe she has got a power like that, Ben thinks.

And though Klaus might say that watching him sleep is weird, Ben can’t help it. Not now. When he’s a mess of long limbs spread out with Dave’s, face peaceful, and he’s actually managing to sleep without the aid of heavy drugs. At least, he thinks, this time he’s not watching him sleep against a dumpster in an alleyway, and it’s those memories that make him steal glances at him, a little proud of how far he’s come.

He watches, too, as Sadie sleepily stumbles out of her bedroom, looking for Dave and then lighting up at the sight of Klaus with him too, but when neither of them wake to her gentle prodding she simply grabs her stuffed unicorn tighter and clambers onto the couch, slotting herself beside Dave and Klaus, and she simply goes back to sleep happily.

He might not be able to interact with the world, or make his own life, but at least he can be part of Klaus’.

There’s a flash by the door. He cranes his head around to eye it, blinking in the dim lighting – none of the lights are on except for the kitchen ones, and it’s gotten dark now – as his eyes adjust to see Five, oddly enough, with a mannequin in his grasp. He sets the mannequin down, looking around for a light switch only to pause and move quieter when his eyes fall upon the three of them, somehow managing to not fall off the couch with them all there, napping to the sound of a kid’s movie.

Five finds the blanket he had used to sleep with last night folded neatly on an armchair and he spreads it out across them all. Then he settles into the armchair opposite Ben’s, picking up a book from the few on the shelf in the living room, and he opens it. He seems to simply enjoy the peace the situation offers; a sense of family life and domesticity, something unfamiliar but eagerly welcomed by them all, and Five, being odd with bringing a mannequin home or not, manages to slip into it easily.

Ben nods at him, unseen, though he glances up once and eyes the armchair he’s in. Then they both return to reading their books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one fic has more fluff in it than the rest of my fics combined and it's just what they deserve  
Also, you all really clocked Five zoning in on Klaus' engagement/marriage situation last chapter shdhsajdhd   
Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments below!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

He wakes up with the realisation that he is incredibly warm, his side hurts, and his neck hurts slightly. 

It doesn't take him long to realise that the latter two points are because he fell asleep trying to curl all six feet of him on the couch and, largely, on top of Dave, and because there is a six year old curled up in the tight space between his side and the back of the couch. 

Klaus lifts his head up slowly, blinking blearily around the living room. Light filters in through the closed curtains and there's a lamp on in the corner of the living room, right by one of the armchairs. One of the armchairs that Five is asleep in, his head tipped down so that his chin rests on his chest slightly, and his hands are cradling a book that looks a breath away from falling onto the floor.

Then Klaus realises that there is a blanket thrown across them all, the one he had specifically taken out for Five to use. Nonetheless, Klaus finds himself slipping back down to rest his head on Dave's chest once more, not regretting that his fiancé most likely lost blood circulation to half of his body with Klaus asleep on top of him, and he manoeuvres an arm out of the blanket to curl around Sadie and keep her close. 

He doesn't really know how to describe the situation. The way Sadie digs into his side is uncomfortable, what with her occasional twitching that causes her to drive her elbow like a spear into his ribs, and the way Dave's hips press against his at a certain angle feels like they might bruise if he stays like that for too long, and if he stays under the blanket for too long he's certain he'll just get all sweaty and gross and overall it might not be the most comfortable thing ever, but it's comforting in a different way that he isn't sure how to put into words. It soothes him, calms him down and melts tension out of his muscles. It soothes his mind and his nerves and his emotions, brings a smile to his face and makes him nudge his head further beneath Dave's chin and grip tighter onto both him and Sadie, and he thinks it might be physically impossible to be upset or stressed in this situation. Not when Dave's hand twitches on his back and tightens a little in a subconscious twitch, as if not wanting to let him go. Klaus is more than happy to abide by that.

"You're so domestic it disgusts me."

Klaus cracks his eyes open to glare at Ben, shattering the peace and, yes, the domesticity of the situation or him. Wiggling one hand out of the blanket, he flips his deceased brother off. 

"I'm just saying," says Ben, then proceeds to make a gagging noise. Klaus rolls his eyes and tilts his head up so that he can pepper Dave's jaw with gentle kisses.

"You're just jealous," he mumbles, voice slightly muffled when he turns his face into the crook of his neck. "Suck my dick, Ben."

"Don't say such things in front of your child."

"She's _asleep_-"

"Daddy?"

Klaus startles, going still against Dave. "Oh, shit - _fuck_ \- oh, _god_, yes sweetheart?" He turns his head to be able to look at Sadie, blinking all sleepily and yawning. She mumbles something incoherently and Klaus runs his hand up and down her arm gently, then moves his hand to move her hair from her face gently. She closes her eyes, seemingly satisfied with giving Klaus a heart attack, and then shimmies slightly and seems to fall right back to sleep.

"Tut tut tut," mutters Ben, shaking his head.

"Fuck off," Klaus groans, dropping his head once more. 

"Have you seen Five's present?"

"Hmm?"

Ben tips his head to something that he can't see. "He brought a mannequin home with him."

"A mannequin?" Klaus repeats, eyebrow raising. Ben nods. Klaus shrugs one shoulder. "Each to their own, though."

"You don't think that's weird? Like, at all?"

"Well, obviously it's weird," Klaus scoffs, "but it's not the weirdest thing we've seen, let's be honest." 

Ben grimaces slightly, turning his gaze to peer through the gap in the curtains and out of the windows. "Unfortunately," he mutters. Klaus smirks a little at that. He lifts a hand up to gently run it through Dave's hair, messed from sleep, and he brushes it back from his face. He does this until Dave twitches beneath him, breath hitching, and then he opens his eyes. He blinks for a moment, looking around before looking down at Klaus offering him a sleepy smile. 

"Mornin'," he says, his voice slightly croaky from sleep. He ducks his head to ghost his lips over Klaus' head and Klaus leans into it like a cat, nearly purring.

"Good morning," he says, tipping his head into his hand. "Sleep well?"

Dave grunts and nods slightly and Klaus grins. "Do my bony hips hurt?" He teases and Dave snorts, reaching a hand underneath the blanket to poke his hip.

"Never," he drawls sarcastically. Klaus' grin widens and he props himself up gently to lean close enough to press his nose against his.

"Good," he says. Dave's nose wrinkles.

"Brush your teeth," he complains. Klaus glares at him and then falls back on top of him, hearing him cough out a sudden breath.

"Bitch," Klaus mutters.

"Dick," Dave returns. Klaus snorts, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw before slowly, carefully untangling himself from Sadie and Dave to awkwardly clamber off the couch and rise to his feet, shaking out his half-asleep legs that feel full of static. Dave takes the opportunity to stretch a little, mindful of Sadie slumped against him. Klaus turns to eye Five, suddenly awake and watching him silently. He would be lying if he said that turning to see Five's sudden hawk eyes turned on him didn't surprise him.

"Morning," he greets cheerfully. "Sorry, we kind of stole the couch," he says sheepishly. Five waves him off.

"It's fine," he says, stretching his legs out and standing up. "Thank you for letting me stay."

Klaus shrugs, spreading his hands out. "What's mine is yours, dear brother. Not like I can lock you out anyway, is it?" He states with a quirked eyebrow. Five nods his head at him. "Can I get you some breakfast? Coffee? I'll make it this time," he says. He places his hands on his hips and stretches backwards, multiple cracks echoing from his back.

"I can make it," Five dismisses only for Klaus to wave his hand at him.

"Nope, not happening bro, sit down. I'll make something." He turns to Dave, raising an eyebrow. "Coffee?"

"Please," says Dave. Klaus smiles at him with Sadie tucked under one arm. Klaus ducks his head to press a kiss to his forehead. He slides into the kitchen, busying himself with making a few coffees for everyone. He carries a couple through, placing them close to Five and Dave on the coffee table.

Five reaches out to take his, murmuring a grateful thanks. Klaus perches on the arm of the couch, watching Five.

“So,” he says, “what’s up with the mannequin?” He asks, tipping his head to where it is, set against the floor and propped against the armchair.

Five glances up at him. “Her name is Delores,” he states. It clicks in Klaus’ head and his lips part.

“Oh… right,” he breathes, looking down at the mannequin. He can’t help but feel… sad. If the apocalypse is real, then Five spent years utterly alone and the only company he had was a plastic imitation of another person.

Five looks him in the eyes as if just daring him to comment on the mannequin, on Delores. Klaus decides that it’s still probably not the weirdest thing he’s ever seen and that, really, he isn’t one to comment on coping mechanisms, so he simply shrugs his shoulders.

“As long as you’re not doing anything freaky before marriage, I won’t complain,” he responds. Five rolls his eyes at that but relaxes a fraction. “So, my dear brother, what plans have you on this fine day?”

Five’s hands curl around the mug of coffee in his grasp, eyes watching steam rise from it and disappear into nothingness. “I believe I’ll keep an eye on the lab and Mr Bigs today,” he says. “There is something he wasn’t saying yesterday. I don’t like it.” He presses his lips together in a straight line, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before he takes a sip of his coffee.

Klaus hums. “Fair enough. He did seem pretty sketchy, I won’t lie. Need a helping hand?”

Five shakes his head. “No, I should be fine by myself, thank you.”

Klaus shrugs. “As long as you’re sure.”

“You could go see the others again, though. I’d like to keep up with everything that’s happening at the Academy, too.”

Klaus groans. “You want me to be your little reporter for all of the family breakdowns currently happening that we have the pleasure of missing?” He tips his head back, exhaling slowly.

“I need to be aware of everything that is happening at the moment, Klaus. There might be something I’m not catching and something might happen at the Academy that I won’t be there to see,” states Five, eying him levelly. Klaus groans once more.

“Fine, Christ,” he sighs. “I’ll be your little spy on our family.” He turns his head to look at Dave, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you want to meet the family now?”

Dave perks up at that, eyebrows raising and he hums as he hurries to swallow the coffee in his mouth before responding. “About time,” he says, half-jokingly.

“Don’t get too excited, you might get called my drug dealer or something,” Klaus retorts bitterly.

“Or pimp,” offers Ben. Klaus points at him in acknowledgement. Everyone eyes the seemingly empty armchair and Klaus doesn’t elaborate.

“Well, we’ll get ready, you can do your stalking for the man I traumatised-“ Dave raises an eyebrow curiously at that. “And we’ll go stalk our dear family.”

Five’s lips twitch slightly. “Sounds like a plan.”

Klaus goes to take a shower and change while Dave rouses Sadie from her sleep and begins fixing up a quick breakfast for her, and when Klaus returns to the living room they swap places, Klaus taking over watching her eat sleepily while Dave hops into the shower, the routine something comforting and familiar. They work seamlessly – Dave comes back, hair slightly damp, and he takes Sadie’s dishes while Klaus takes her into her bedroom. He peers out of the curtains, eying the weather, and then he turns to Sadie.

“What outfit are you feeling today, princess?” He asks, opening up her little wardrobe and eying her clothes.

Sadie comes close, lips pressed together in concentration as she looks into her wardrobe. She reaches in, plucking out her favourite dress and handing it to him. Then she points at a fluffy jacket hanging up and Klaus plucks it from its hanger. Then he rummaged until he found a pair of patterned tights that he thought would go with the outfit, and, upon receiving Sadie’s nod of approval, he helps her get changed into it all.

“Do you want me to do anything with your hair?” He asks, brushing it from her face. She smiles, pointing at his.

“Like yours,” she requests. Klaus hums and, after finding a scrunchie set aside, he sits down behind her, gently working to pull her hair into a half-up bun, like his own.

“Happy?”

Sadie bobs her head eagerly, twisting to give him a swift hug. “Thank you, daddy,” she beams, and then she all but takes off back into the living room. Klaus watches her go, listening to the patter of her feet on the floor before standing up with a groan and following after her.

“Five left,” says Dave and, sure enough the only sibling in the living room is Ben.

“He left his mannequin,” Ben comments. “I don’t like it.”

“Be nice,” Klaus chastises, then turns to Dave. “You better brace yourself for meeting my family, I’m just telling you,” he says. Dave snorts.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says. Klaus slides up to his side, wrapping his arms around his torso and resting his head on his shoulder.

“Oh, how I love your positive attitude,” he sighs. “What’s it like having faith in life, Dave? Is it nice?”

Dave rolls his eyes playfully, giving him a gentle squeeze before reaching for both of their coats hung up, handing Klaus’ over.

“Where are we going?” Asks Sadie, her hand in Dave’s.

“We’re going to go meet daddy’s family,” Dave tells her with a smile. “All of his brothers and sisters.”

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Ben comments. Klaus gives him a look, mouthing _of course it is._

“Oh,” says Sadie, turning to look at Klaus. “Are they nice?”

Klaus smiles, crouching down to squeeze her cheek. “They’ll love you, princess,” he tells her, then slips his hand into her other one. “Let’s get this over with, then.” He heaves a sigh, mentally steeling himself before they head outside.

###

“I didn’t realise it was so… big,” Dave mutters, looking up at the Academy towering above them. Klaus snorts, nudging him with a small smirk only to receive a disapproving look in return.

“It’s worse inside,” he says. “Like, forty-three bedrooms; take your pick.”

Dave raises his eyebrows, turning to look at the large doors once more. “Lead the way,” he says, offering him a small smile. Klaus sighs, eying the doors with hesitation, and then he nudges them open and leads both Dave and Sadie inside.

“Wow…” Breathes Sadie, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the large chandelier in the foyer. “It’s like a… a castle.”

Klaus snorts a little. “It is fancy, isn’t it?” He muses, squeezing her little hand. “You’ll have plenty of time for hide and seek in here later, how about we see if anyone’s home?”

Sadie reluctantly pulls her gaze away from a cabinet full of sparkling trophies and decorations, nodding at him.

First, Klaus heads towards the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. He sees Grace there, standing by the oven. There’s nothing inside of it but she watches it as if she can see a tray of cookies baking inside.

“Uh, hi, mom,” he says. She doesn’t startle but she does seem dazed, blinking a few times as she turns to face them, hands clasped in front of her.

“Oh, hello dear,” she says. Her eyes flick to Dave and Sadie. Klaus thinks they light up when they see Sadie. “You’ve brought friends.”

Klaus hums, wandering a few steps in. “You could say that,” he muses. “Mom, meet Dave, my fiancé. This is Sadie, my daughter.” Every time he says either of those things, anytime he mentions his _fiancé_ and his _daughter_, his lips tug upwards.

“Oh!” Grace exclaims, lighting up and hurrying over. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dave,” she says. Dave returns a pleasant smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he says, holding out a hand in offering. Grace ignores it and gives him a hug instead. If Dave seems surprised by the firmness of her hold, he doesn’t show it. Grace turns, then, crouching down in front of Sadie. Klaus thinks this is the most he’s seen Grace respond to.

“Hello, Sadie,” she greets. “I’m Klaus’ mom. Don’t you two just look so alike?”

“Hi,” says Sadie, blushing ever so slightly and waving her hand. Grace grins, all wide and like she used to when he was younger, and then she stands looks at Klaus.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says, and she surprises him one step further by hugging him tightly.

“Oh… thanks, mom,” he says gently.

“Your siblings are around,” she says, stepping back. “Allison and Luther are talking, I believe, and Diego and Vanya must be around. I do think Five is out, but hopefully he should come back soon. I’ll make some snacks for the little one,” she says, smiling down at Sadie before whisking herself back towards the kitchen, moving with more life as she brought ingredients down.

“Come on, I’ll show you my old bedroom,” he says, pausing for a moment to consider if there’s anything in there that Sadie ought not to see – any old pipes, bongs, or anything inappropriate for a six year old in general. He’s pretty sure it’s fine, though, so he guides them up the stairs.

“This place is so big,” Sadie comments to herself, head constantly swivelling to look around the place. Klaus chuckles a little.

“Yeah,” he hums. “I don’t think I’d ever find you if we played hide and seek in here,” he comments. Sadie grins at him.

“This definitely is very you,” Dave comments as they go inside his bedroom, looking around at the at the scrawled writing and the drawings on the walls, the peeling paint and the exposed bricks, scorch marks and cigarette burns on the window sill, the lamps, candles and fairy lights everywhere. It held a lot of memories, a lot that Klaus didn’t want to think about, and he wondered if he had made the right decision coming in here rather than showing Sadie the courtyard or the library.

“I was a messy teenager,” he sighs nostalgically. “Welcome to my humble abode where I sulked in my own teenage angst.”

Dave snorts, sitting on the edge of his bed and lifting Sadie to sit on his lap, keeping one arm wrapped around her. “I feel like that nail polish stain holds a thousand stories,” he comments, gesturing to a splash of old black nail polish that had stained a small rug.

“It’s seen some things,” Klaus says, lips curling upwards.

“Can we paint our nails?” Sadie asks, lifting her head.

“We can do that when we go home if you like,” Klaus hums. Sadie nods her head eagerly.

There’s a knock at his door and then it nudges open. “Klaus? I heard you talking,” says Diego, inviting himself inside and pausing in the doorway as everyone falls silent, turning to look at him. His eyes narrow and he eyes Dave then, with a little more confusion, Sadie. Then he looks questioningly to Klaus. “Who’re they? Why is there a child in your room?”

Klaus snorts, moving from where he stands by the windowsill to stand by Dave and Sadie. “Diego, meet Dave and Sadie,” he says, draping an arm over Dave’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head. “My fiancé and my – my daughter.” He hesitates on the word, not sure how Diego might react to that.

Diego’s eyes blow wide at that, turning to look at Dave (who holds out a hand and wears a pleasant smile) and Sadie sat on his lap. “Your _daughter_?” He echoes, turning back to Klaus. “You never said you had a daughter.”

“Yeah, well, you never asked,” says Klaus with a shrug.

Diego, in a somewhat dazed state, shakes Dave’s hand. He seems, quite literally, speechless, unsure of what to say. Klaus snorts, then turns to Sadie. “Princess, this is Uncle Diego,” he says, sitting by her side, one hand resting on her shoulder. Diego’s cheeks flush a gentle pink at that and Klaus doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look so lost. His brother comes close hesitantly, head tipped to the side as he watches Sadie as if she’s some kind of animal, watching him carefully and about to pounce at him.

Then Sadie smiles at him, all gappy teeth, and she waves her hand. “Hi,” she says.

“Hi there,” Diego returns, then looks at Klaus, raises his eyebrows and jerks his head to the door. Klaus rolls his eyes but stands nonetheless, offering a brief smile to Dave, and he follows Diego outside.

“What’s going on?” Diego asks as Klaus closes the door behind him.

“What?” Klaus asks, cocking his head to the side.

“You have a _daughter_, Klaus,” he says.

“Thank you, Diego, I never noticed before now,” he drawls, rolling his eyes. His arms fold over his chest.

“I’m serious, Klaus.” Diego’s cheeks puff out slightly and looks back at the door. Klaus shrugs.

“I told you I was engaged,” he states, lifting his hand to flaunt the ring Diego had seen before.

“You never said you were a _father_. That’s a whole different thing, Klaus.”

Klaus’ lips part slightly and it hits him. “Do you think I’m not a good for her?” He asks, recoiling a little. But he understands – he’s had those same doubts every day and he still does, and he knows that others are justifiable in thinking so – he’s a recovering drug addict and previously homeless, with a criminal record and a general wild card and untrustworthy reputation.

But he is _trying_. He only drinks with Dave and only ever gets buzzed and he’s not done anything harder than weed in ages. He’s cleaned himself up and he acts to put Sadie first.

“That – that’s not what I’m saying, Klaus,” Diego says. “I’m just saying that raising a child is a whole thing that you yourself always swore you’d never be any good at.”

“Things change, Diego,” Klaus snaps. “People change – I would never do anything that might put her in harm’s way. I would _never_.”

Diego pauses, eying Klaus and the challenge in his eyes. “I know,” he says, nodding his head. Klaus relaxes a little at that, shoulders slumping in slight relief.

“Good,” he mutters.

“You were a second from going feral,” Ben mutters by his side, startling him ever so slightly though he covers it as he always does, too used to Ben’s surprise visits.

“I know you’ve cleaned yourself up, bro,” Diego says. Tension continues to fall between them, little by little, and Klaus leans back against the door. “It’s just… weird. In a good way.”

Klaus snorts. “It does feel like just yesterday I was falling through your bedroom window on acid, huh?” He muses. Diego snorts.

“Which time?”

Klaus laughs a little at that. “You think I remember doing that more than once? I’m still convinced I was stuck in a time loop and just continuing to fall in that window over and over again.”

Diego scoffs. “Or the time you were on – _something_ – and trying – and failing - to pretend to be sober at the dinner table.”

“Which time?”

Diego laughs. Klaus sighs. “Good times… good times. But long gone now,” he states with force. “Long gone.”

Diego catches his eyes. They hold the gaze for several moments and then Diego nods.

“Well, I’m proud of you, bro.”

“You’re going to be on babysitting duty now, you know that, right?”

Diego scoffs. “Sure,” he drawls. Klaus offers him a grin and nods.

“Next Friday. Dave and I are going to go to a disco and getting our boogie on. You can watch Sadie draw a picture of you.”

“Not happening.”

“You’d be surprised how quickly she’ll have you wrapped around her finger, you know. Soon you’ll be watching _Frozen_ and braiding her hair.”

Diego snorts sarcastically. Klaus is just about to turn around and open the door once more when he hears footsteps coming quickly upstairs and Allison is there, looking a little startled and uncertain. She pauses at the sight of them as if she’s been caught doing something.

“I’m phoning Vanya,” she states. “We need to have a family meeting.”

“What about?” Diego asks. Allison just shakes her head.

“Do you know where Five is?”

“He’s out,” says Klaus. “Got business to do and all that.”

Her lips press together in a tight line but she nods her head slightly, continuing her way down the corridor.

“More drama,” Klaus states with a sigh. “Can’t we just have one day where we act like a normal family?”

“Apparently not,” says Diego. “Just wait ‘till you introduce Sadie, huh.”

Klaus groans at the idea. “God, end me now,” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands. He knows he’s put off introducing Dave and Sadie for as long as he physically can though, and he ought to just get it over with, get through all the doubts and accusations, and then he can go home tonight, satisfied that Dave has been traumatised by the whole experience as well, and they can return to never talking about family ever again.

“I’ll get you down there,” Diego says, nodding his head towards the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah. Go dig my grave for me in preparation, will you?” He sets his hand on the door handle, gives a forced smile to Diego, then goes back into his room.

“Everything okay?” Dave asks, looking up at him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just gotta help everyone through their ‘Klaus is a dad’ panic attack, you know how it is.”

Dave snorts. As Klaus sits down on the bed next to him, dropping his head onto his shoulder, Dave wraps an arm around him. “Well, I think you’re a great dad,” he says, his voice soft. Klaus’ cheeks heat up at the admission and he closes his eyes.

“I love you, daddy.”

A small hand touches his chest and Klaus smiles, prying open his eyes to look at her. He takes her hand in his and presses a gentle kiss to it. “I love you too,” he says with a grin. He lifts his head to look at Dave. “Want to meet the rest of them?”

“Let’s do it,” he says with a grin, gently squeezing his hip. Dave sets Sadie onto her feet, taking her hand in his once more and following Klaus out of his bedroom.

He can hear chatter coming from the living room, hear someone moving stuff about and Diego making sarcastic comments that go ignored. Klaus stands just out of sight of the door, breathing in deeply. Get this over with and he doesn’t have to talk to anyone again until the next funeral, he tells himself. Dave squeezes his hands.

“Let’s get this party started,” he says, announcing his presence as he enters the room. Eyes flick towards him and almost immediately turn to Dave and Sadie.

“Uh, hello?” Allison says, then she smiles. “You must be Dave, right?”

Dave reflects her smile, inclining his head. “That would be me,” he confirms. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” If he is nervous under the weight of Luther, Allison and Vanya’s intrigued gaze, Dave doesn’t show it.

“And who is this?” Allison asks, her gaze turning to Sadie. Something flickers in her features and for a moment she looks sad, pained, and then it turns into something soft, her smile widening.

“This,” says Klaus, settling his hand on Sadie’s head, ruffling her hair slightly, “is Sadie. She’s my daughter.”

Silence seems deafening in the room. Ben clears his throat just to be awkward.

“Daughter?” Echoes Vanya, shock evident in her tone. Klaus nods his head, then quickly ducks his head near Sadie’s, pointing at each person in turn.

“Princess, that’s your aunties Allison and Vanya and your other uncle Luther,” he tells her. Suddenly a bit shy by the crowd of adults in the room Sadie presses against Klaus’ leg, one fist by her mouth and the other offering a silent wave. “So,” he says, standing upright, “the family mee-“

“You’re a father?” Luther says, blinking dazedly. Klaus sighs, looking up at the ceiling overhead and wishing it would just crash down in such a way it dragged only him to the ground.

“Yup,” he says, nodding and watching Luther carefully. He shifts on the spot, looking between the other siblings as if seeking out their support.

“And you think you’re… in the right space to take that responsibility?” Luther asks carefully. Klaus presses his lips together, exchanging a look with Ben but, with Sadie’s presence right there, he bites back the first retort that comes to mind.

“Yes, I do, actually,” he states with a nod. “I’ve cleaned up my act, I’m capable of being better than Reginald.”

Luther shifts at that slightly, lips pressing together. “Klaus,” he says, “I understand that you think that, but raising a child is a huge responsibility and you’re not exactly known for your…”

“My what?” Klaus asks, raising an eyebrow. Beside him, Dave is frowning. Klaus knows what he wants to say; he’s said it before in previous arguments.

“Klaus…”

“You think I’m too irresponsible to be a father,” Klaus accuses, “you think I’d be bad for her, don’t you?”

Luther gives Klaus an exasperated look. “You put your addictions before your family,” he states. Klaus lifts a hand.

“And that’s in the past,” he says. “Ex-addict. _Ex_. I’ve cleaned myself up, and forgive me if my six-year-old daughter is different than my siblings. Things change.”

Dave rests a hand on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing a gentle pattern. “Klaus has been a great father to Sadie,” he states, interrupting them. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. He’s there when she can’t sleep and wakes up in the night. I know he would do anything for her.”

Klaus can’t help but smile at him, resisting the urge to reach out for his hand.

“I’m happy for you,” says Allison, breaking the silence that had fallen over them all once more. Does she understand what it’s like to have her ability to be there for her child be doubted?

“Thank you,” he says, dipping his head. Then he turns to eye the room and the television that has been set up on the bar counter. “What’s going on, then?”

“I found some footage,” Allison says, coming up to the television and fiddling with it to open it to a black and white scene of a bedroom.

“It’s about dad – how dad passed,” Luther says, eyes flicking briefly to Sadie. Klaus looks between the television and the girl, face twisting slightly.

Dave sets a hand on his shoulder. “I can take her upstairs,” he offers. Klaus smiles gratefully.

“Mom was making those snacks,” he suggests. Dave nods, then nudges Sadie.

“How about we go find some snacks, huh?” He says. “Daddy’ll come in a minute.”

Sadie nods contently, happy to follow Dave out of the living room and towards the kitchen. Without the worry of traumatising his daughter by showing her a video of Reginald kicking the bucket, he turns now to face the television.

“More suspicious murder?” He muses.

“Just watch,” says Luther, somewhat ominously, and then Allison presses play.

The video shows Grace in Reginald’s bedroom. She stands right by his bedside as he struggles, seizing and twitching in his bed. She simply stands there, hands held together in front of herself, her face impassive. She leans close when Reginald stills, seeming to simply eye him, and then she turns around and exits the room, leaving Reginald alone, dead.

“What about it?” Klaus asks, raising an eyebrow. Luther eyes him, then sighs.

“Grace just left him there,” he states. “She left Reginald to die. She could have intervened, she could have saved him. The way he died… it was too sudden. She had just given him his tea before… she could have done something to it.”

Klaus blinks, cocking his head to the side.

“Do you really think mom would hurt dad?” Vanya asks, sounding a little sad.

“You haven’t been home in a long time,” Luther states. “Maybe you don’t know mom anymore.”

“If he was poisoned, it would have shown in the coroner’s report,” Diego states, his voice low and almost patronising.

“Well, I don’t need a report to know what I can see with my own eyes,” Luther retorts.

Diego seems no more convinced, rolling his eyes and wandering a few steps to the side with a muttered comment. Then he goes up to the television, rewinding it. “Look closer. Dad has his monocle; mom stands up; monocle is gone. She wasn’t poisoning him… she was taking it to clean it.”

“Then where is it? I’ve searched the whole house, including her stuff. She doesn’t have it.”

“That’s because I took it from her. After the funeral.”

“You’ve had it this whole time? What the hell, Diego?” Allison says, her eyes narrowing at him.

“Give it to me,” Luther demands.

“I threw it away.”

“You what?”

“Look, I knew that if you found it on mom, you’d lose your shit; just like you’re doing right now.” A knife somehow ends up in Diego’s hands, or perhaps he’d had it out for a while, but either way he jabs it in Luther’s direction as he takes a step forwards.

Luther rises to his challenge, stepping forwards. “Diego, you son of a bitch.”

Before he can get too close to Diego, however, Vanya is quick to insert herself between the two of them, beginning to mediate and negotiate a shaky moment of peace between the two of them, although it is just as quick to crumble apart when they propose a vote deciding Grace’s life.

Klaus decides that the topic of his mother’s life isn’t something he wants to continue to debate, and so, following after Vanya, Klaus leaves the living room.

How can he consider her life when she looks so lively and so happy, sitting at the dining table with Sadie and showing her how she ices a biscuit.

“How’s it going?” He asks, coming up and leaning over Sadie. “Oh, is that a pony?”

Sadie nods her head. “Mhmm. Her name is… Amy.”

“Amy?” Klaus hums. “Aren’t you just an artist, huh?”

“She really is,” Dave muses, wrapping an arm around Klaus’ waist and resting his chin on his shoulder from behind. “Everything alright?”

Klaus leans back into his chest, resting his hands over his. “Ugh,” he groans.

“Sounds about right.”

Klaus snorts, tipping his head back so that he can see him. “I think we should just get up and run away to the Russian wilderness or something,” he declares. “I can build us a little hut and you can tame us some bears. We can survive off of berries and have a little farm.”

“Sounds good with me, I’ll pack our bags,” Dave grins. He turns his head to press a kiss to his neck, brushing aside curls.

“Perfect.”

Klaus turns his head slightly to watch Grace and Sadie continue to decorate cookies together.

###

Sadie is showing him the cookies she made up in his bedroom.

She’s half way through the explanation of one that is supposed to be a dog when something happens.

Gunshots crack down the corridor, muffled from a different room but sharp and distinct nonetheless. Both Dave and Klaus startle, wide eyes turning to the bedroom door. Sadie notices their reactions and stops talking, looking curiously.

Klaus keeps listening.

More gunshots. The sound of fighting, loud thuds, grunts, a more occasional gunshot.

“Klaus?” Dave says, voice quiet, hushed.

Klaus doesn’t respond. He strains his ears to listen and this time he can make out Diego’s voice. There is running, leading towards the staircase, leading further away from his bedroom.

“We don’t typically use guns here,” Klaus murmurs, and he turns to look at Ben, pulling his head back in through the closed door.

“Diego’s fighting some masked people,” he informs him. “They both have guns.”

“I got that bit,” Klaus mutters, but he nods and then he looks between the door and where Dave and Sadie are.

“They’re chasing him, Klaus,” Ben says, urgency rippling in his words, and Klaus’ teeth grind together.

“I _know_,” he says. Then he sighs, standing up. “Stay here with her, stay quiet,” he says to Dave, hand on his shoulder. “I – they’re after Diego-“

Dave catches his hand. “Klaus,” he says, “you can’t-“

“I have to,” Klaus groans. “I’ll get Luther, it’ll be fine. Just stay quiet, I’ll be fine.” He looks at Sadie, smiling softly. “You stay here with aba, alright? You do as he says.” Before he can talk himself into ignoring Ben’s pleading look with him to do something, anything, he gets up, weaselling away from Dave’s hand and heading out into the corridor with silent steps.

Luther and Allison meet him in the corridor.

“Klaus? What’s going on?” Allison asks him. Klaus puts his finger to his lips.

“Two people broke in,” he states. “They’re with Diego.”

They don’t question how he knows this; they simply act first.

Allison and Luther work together like a well-oiled machine, no words needing to be shared between the two – a simple look and jerk of their head and they have a plan formulated.

Klaus almost misses being part of that, lifetimes ago. Almost.

Luther goes for one person from behind, grabbing them and throwing them backwards and while the second person is distracted, Allison goes in and disarms them.

Klaus stands against a pillar, trying not to get in the way and entirely unsure of what to do. What can he do? They’re all fighting, with Luther throwing the second person aside like a ragdoll to land beside their partner, and Klaus imagines this is what they must have been like on missions, when Klaus wasn’t there, when he was outside, stuck as lookout. They must have been able to work together seamlessly, understand who is doing what, how to work with one another simply by catching their eyes.

At the very least, Klaus can kick their guns across their room, further away from the attackers, and turn to make sure Diego isn’t actually hurt. And when they begin to fight once more, Klaus can stay out of the way.

He’s half way up the staircase once more, intent on returning to Dave and Sadie, anxiety at leaving them making him begin to feel a little nauseous, when the doors open. Klaus’ instincts tell him to yell about backup coming in, more enemies, reinforcements, but it is simply Vanya, nose twitching at the smell of gunpowder and the flickering lights.

“Klaus?” She says, eyes landing on him half-crouched on the stairs. “What’s going on?”

Where did the guy go?

“Vanya-“

A heavy footstep echoes against the marble floor and Klaus’ question is answered. The man in the blue mask steps out from the living room, brandishing a weapon – and really, why did Reginald feel the need to keep an old mace around, out of all things? – and looking between him and Vanya.

Vanya is closer.

She dodges the first swing of the mace with a yelp of surprise, and then she stumbles, loses her balance, and the mace swings back around. Klaus won’t even make it off the staircase in time.

He throws his hands out with a yell as if he might be able to reach forwards and pull Vanya back despite the space between them.

Blue drops the mace. No. The mace flies out of his grasp as if torn away by a sudden gust of violent wind.

Klaus doesn’t think about it. He runs forwards, grabs Vanya, and does what he’s best at doing; he runs. Not the best decision, he might admit, because he just corners them in the living room with Vanya pressed between the wall and his back as a man much larger than Vanya, still towering over Klaus and obviously not lacking in physical strength, advances on them.

“Go pick on someone your own size,” Klaus says, eyes flicking around and searching wildly for an escape route. There is a trophy cabinet to their left and the fire place to their right. He really has just gone and cornered them.

At the very least, he does manage to throw his hands up and say, _“fuck.”_

Hands like Luther’s grab onto his forearms up by his face, and then Klaus is in the air, then falling against a pillar, dazed and winded, blinking everything back into clarity.

“_Bitch_,” he rasps, fumbling to push himself up onto his knees and then onto his feet, leaning against the pillar. “I can show you to the door if you want,” he offers. The man, at the very least, does leave Vanya alone, turning once more on him.

He ducks at the fist being thrown at his head, denting the marble pillar behind him, and then he throws himself to the side, stumbling.

“Luther!” He yells. He ducks another throw. “Luther! Could use some help!”

At least Blue doesn’t have his mace anymore.

His hands lash out, curling in Klaus’ shirt and forcing him back against a new pillar. Klaus digs his nails in sharply, trying to kick out.

“Where’s Five?” The man demands, much to Klaus’ confusion.

“W-what?”

“Tell me where the kid is and we’ll go.”

Klaus’ confusion makes him trip over his words, but it doesn’t matter much.

Blue is suddenly torn from him and shoved back and Luther is there, for once a sight Klaus is glad to see. He’s more than happy to gesture Vanya to his side and for them to run out of the living room, watching Luther and Blue fight.

It’s almost impressive. Despite Luther’s super strength, Blue puts up a good fight, getting good hits in against his brother. It’s almost worrying.

Diego and Allison come, panting for breath and dishevelled but largely unhurt and still alive.

“Where’s the other one?” Klaus asks, one hand on the wall to lean against. Before anyone can reply, however, a loud crash from the living room draws there attention, and Klaus finds the air stolen from him as he sees Luther on the broken remains of the coffee table, with Blue standing up and dusting himself off, chest heaving. And then he leaves.

He doesn’t bother any of them, standing in the doorway in near-awe before Allison and Diego actually act, hurrying forwards to grab at Luther’s hands and haul him upright onto his feet. He staggers, face haggard and sucking in breaths.

The chandelier sways. Everyone looks up. Pink, with a pen knife dripping in what Klaus hopes is her blood and no one else’s, looks down at them through her mask, almost tauntingly. Then she leans forwards, grabs the rope holding the chandelier up, and she swipes the blade through it.

“Luther!”

Luther shoves Diego and Allison away from him, sending them staggering back and out of reach of the chandelier, choosing instead to take the entire weight of the thing as it crashes down upon him. Glass shatters, spilling across the ground like a cascade of glistening shards, and Klaus can’t help but flinch and screw his eyes shut, the image of Luther being dragged to the ground imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

Pink and Blue are forgotten in favour of slowly prying his eyes open, his fists held by his chest, to cautiously peer out and look at Luther. Surely, he must be down, now. Klaus can’t imagine getting back up after a hit like that.

But Luther does. The chandelier creaks and glass crunches beneath his feet, but he pushes the chandelier off of himself, his jumper tearing in the process.

Klaus feels as if he has whiplash from the last ten minutes alone. Luther’s face flushes hot with what Klaus thinks is shame and embarrassment as they all ogle, speechless, at his evidently non-human body. In any other situation, Klaus might make a Big Foot joke, but he finds himself unable to articulate it now.

Luther doesn’t say anything. He ducks his head down, avoids eye contact, and hurries from the room.

“Shit…” Klaus mutters, watching him go. And then. “_Shit_.”

He turns, leaving Diego and Allison to deal with everything, and he runs.

“Dave! Dave, is everything alright?” He calls, taking the steps three at a time. He saw Pink run, and surely Blue can’t be standing for too long after a fight with Luther, but Klaus’ heart won’t settle until he sees the two of them.

He all but skids to a stop in front of his door. It’s open. A figure blocks his sight of Sadie and Dave. A torn suit, a blue mask, and Klaus throws himself onto the man’s back.

Evidently, Luther’s fight had tired him because he stumbles, staggers, throwing a hand out to catch himself on Klaus’ dresser as Klaus’ hands struggle and fail to find his throat beneath the mask. Instead, the man backs up suddenly, crushing Klaus between the wall and him and then dropping him to the floor.

From there, he can see them.

Dave is on the floor, his eyes are closed, a small gash on his forehead. The sight makes Klaus tense, makes him freeze as first fear washes over him and then anger. And then he catches sight of Sadie, sitting on her knees behind him with one hand clutching Dave’s shirt, looking up, wide-eyed, at Blue, and then to Klaus.

“Daddy!”

Klaus’ hands latch onto Blue’s leg. “Don’t,” he says, fighting his winded lungs for enough air. “Don’t hurt them, please, not them-“

And Blue does pause. He turns to look at Klaus, that mask disguising any emotion he might be portraying. Klaus shakes his head.

“Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt her, please, man, not my daughter. Five – he isn’t here, they don’t know anything, please-“

The man kicks the leg that Klaus is still clinging to out, and it’s enough to drop Klaus back and hit his head off the corner of the desk beside him. There’s a sharp pain in his head, one in his guts, and he can’t even do a single thing to help. Can’t do anything.

Everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make of the ending what you will and feel free to let me know in the comments!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @hujwernoo and @twistedillusions for all of your gloriously painful ideas for this part, they motivated me to updated this again

Dave wakes up somewhere small and somewhere dark.

When he realises that he cannot move, that he can hardly see, and that his wrists are tied together by something – duct tape, maybe – panic floods him harsh enough to make him feel suddenly nauseous. He takes a moment to breathe (out of his nose, because there is duct tape on his mouth, too) slowly and try to calm himself, compose himself, letting his mind slip back into the old days of his time in the army, and then he begins to assess his situation. He cannot move; his neck is arched in an odd way, head pressed against a wall, and with his legs folded his feet are against a wall, too. He is facing a wall, but he can’t feel anything behind him. He listens, for a moment.

That is when Dave realises he is in the trunk of a car. He pushes down the spike of panic at his obvious kidnapping, falling into old instincts; if he panics, then he is as good as gone. He needs to stay composed and he needs to figure out what is happening and what he can do. He thinks back to what he last remembers.

Klaus had taken him and Sadie to the Academy to meet his family. They had been in Klaus’ childhood bedroom when someone, or maybe multiple people, broke in. Klaus left to try and help his siblings, and Dave stayed with Sadie, reassuring her that everything was fine, they were now playing hide and seek from Daddy and his siblings and they needed to be real quiet. Sadie had been playing along with the game and Dave had been hiding her in Klaus’ bed, kept the door closed tight. That hadn’t stopped that man from coming in.

Of course Dave had tried to fight him. He had the pounding headache now to prove it, still lingering behind his eyes. He had launched at the man and they had tussled for a few moments, but the man was built like a tower and, afraid, Sadie had crawled out of her hiding space and yelled for him. He had been distracted when something hit his head, or he hit his head on something, and everything went dark.

Sadie.

The car went around a corner and he slid slightly in the trunk. Something brushed his back; something soft.

It takes him a great amount of effort but he hurriedly turns himself around in the trunk of the car, suddenly terrified that it is his daughter in the car behind him, tied up and hostage like he was. What he saw was not his daughter. Instead, he comes face to face with Klaus.

His lover takes up the rest of the tight space in the trunk that was definitely not designed to hold two six-feet tall men, hardly leaving any room for either of them to manoeuvre around in, leaving them pressed against one another and, thankfully, no room for anyone else, least of all their daughter. Klaus is in the same situation as himself; wrists tied, duct tape over his mouth. He stares with wide green eyes at Dave, looking afraid, and Dave notices a trail of blood, still wet, trickling down his cheek from the back of his head.

He reaches out with his hands to hold Klaus’, trying to reassure him that he was okay, but Klaus just… he doesn’t react. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t make a sound. Dave assumes that he must be in some state of shock, and rightfully so in this situation, so Dave squeezes his hands tighter and tried to say words of comfort that came out muffled. Klaus just keeps staring.

Klaus’ hands are cold. Klaus was often cold, but not quite like this. And Klaus should have blinked by now. But Klaus isn't even looking at him; he is looking straight through him as if he isn't even there.

His gut drops like an anchor and he shakes Klaus, then harder again when Klaus just rolls with the force but otherwise doesn't react. His head falls to the side and stares up at the nearby ceiling of the trunk.

Dave can't help the noise that escapes him, muffled as it is by the gag on his mouth. His hands begin to shake and he reaches forwards, nearly hesitant, to rest his fingers on Klaus’ neck, shakily searching for a pulse. He holds his fingers there for longer than necessary, and no pulse rushes to greet his touch.

Klaus is dead.

And it tears through him like a bullet. He lets out a cry with air he can't replace, and his hands reach up to cup his head, forcing him to look at him even if it hurts, and his fingers find what must have been the killing blow on the back of his head; a large, rough gash, still bleeding freely, and Dave sobs.

Had Klaus been killed and kidnapped fighting downstairs? Or had he been hurt and shoved in a trunk, suspending in some half-state between life and death alone in this small, dark place Dave knew he hate so much, and he had just slipped away? Had it been quick, too quick for him to even react? Or had he even come upstairs, seen Dave unconscious and Sadie – god, he didn’t want to think about Sadie too – in whatever state she was in, and he had tried to fight, of course, and gotten hurt and dragged along? Had his last imagine be of Dave, looking nearly as dead on the floor and Sadie-

Dave almost throws up.

His hands are coated in Klaus’ blood. He holds his lover close, as best as he can with his hands awkwardly bound, and he sobs. Klaus is dead, right in front of him. He is trapped in the trunk of a car with his lover’s cooling corpse. He wants simultaneously to get as far away from him as he could and to never let him go. He settles on the later; pressing his forehead to Klaus’ and struggling to breathe.

Klaus is dead, god, he is dead, and Sadie – Sadie-

She is probably dead, too. If that man could kill Klaus and kidnap him, why would he save his daughter?

Did they have her body in the backseat of the car, too? Would the man just sit his family’s bodies around him and taunt him with them?

In that moment, Dave truly wishes the hit he’d received had killed him, too. How would he survive after both his lover and his daughter had just been violently torn away from him? He can't imagine life without either of them, let alone both of them. It makes him feel sick.

Klaus’ curls tickle his cheek, the ones not at the back of his head matted with blood, and his hand lays limp against Dave’s chest, unmoving. When Dave lifts his head back up, forcing himself to blink his vision clear of tears, Klaus stares straight forwards again. Carefully, as if Klaus is a fragile thing that might shatter into a thousand pieces beneath his touch, Dave brings his hands up and oh so gently closes his eyelids.

He hopes that Klaus and Sadie had found one another, wherever they might be. Dave would join them soon, he knew.

He isn't sure how long he stays in that car, clutching Klaus’ body and struggling to get his cries under control. And then the car stops. He tries, and fails, to hold his breath or to calm down, at the very least, though finds it hard when he was clutching Klaus’ corpse and with the knowledge that his baby girl had died, afraid and confused and alone.

A few moments pass and then the trunk is thrown open. Dave squints against the sudden brightness as light flooded the previously dark trunk and he squeezes his eyes shut. Hands, rough hands grab at him, heaving him from the trunk with disturbing ease and only a grunt to show for it, and Dave certainly isn't about to make it easy for the bastard holding him; certainly not when he saw another person reach inside, dragging Klaus forwards and throwing his body over her shoulder.

He yells out as loud as he could with the tape over his mouth, thumping his fists down onto the man’s back, kicking out his legs, and though the man is large and obviously strong; Dave is still over six foot and still an ex-soldier, and the man growls in irritation at his flailing just held him tighter.

It does nothing to help him, though. He is carried off and brought into what he realises to be a motel room, and he is dropped unceremoniously into a hard chair and almost immediately hit over the head again. It is enough to daze him so that the man can use a knife to cut the bonds on his wrists, only to tie them down to the arms of the chair.

He watches as the woman follows them in, Klaus limp over her shoulder, and when she drops him onto the floor he can't help the strangled noise he makes , the way tears flood his eyes again to see his lover’s corpse handled in such a way. She kicks the door closed with her ankle and then locks it.

“This one’s still out,” she states. She mustn’t have seen his blue lips, yet, thinks Dave.

The two masked attackers drag out another chair, near Dave but just out of reach of him, and drag Klaus up onto it, tying his wrists down the same way as Dave’s, and god, he is just doubled over limp, and he is dead, he is sitting next to Klaus’ fucking corpse and he feels sick and-

Klaus moans.

Dave freezes, then thinks he must be hallucinating. Done with tying him down, the two attackers go behind he and Klaus, messing with something he can't see and doesn't care about. Dave watches Klaus closely, eyes wide, tears still falling from them, and-

Klaus’ fingers begin to twitch, then curl in on themselves, proper movements that Dave’s grief-torn mind can't possibly make up. He shudders, chest rising and falling with sharp breaths, and his face pinches. He sits up a little, head rolling upwards slowly, and for a few moments he simply breathes. Dave watches in utter fascination and distress, and then Klaus opens his eyes. He tries to roll his wrists in their restraints, confused when he can't lift his hands, and then he looks around the place, obviously with absolutely no clue as to where he is or what is going on.

His eyes land on Dave, tied down, bruised and crying, and then as he processes what he is looking at and as the memories flood back, Klaus’ eyes shoot open and he makes a startled noise and begins to tug at his restraints.

Dave tries to speak, but of course his voice comes out muffled, and he can't reassure Klaus like he wanted to.

“Oh, good, he’s back,” says the woman, strutting into view and standing in front of both Klaus and Dave. Klaus pauses, eying her, then Dave, and then he looks aside to where Dave assumes Ben is, and then he looks back to the woman. Then a thought seems to strike him and he turns frantic again, chest heaving with breaths, and he struggles to keep himself composed whilst Dave is left still reeling from Klaus’ miraculous resurrection.

“This can go one of two ways,” says the woman, voice ringing clear despite the heavy mask over her entire head. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. First question; which one of you is related to Number Five Hargreeves?”

She looks expectantly between the both of them, and Dave and Klaus share a look. His mind is still reeling and he struggles to make it grasp the situation going on, struggles to turn his thoughts away from Klaus’ death and Sadie’s obvious death, even if he can't see her – though he is partly glad, he doesn't think he’d be able to cope at all if they had taken his daughter’s little body just to show him that they killed a child and didn’t care – and understanding that they had been kidnapped, Klaus and Sadie killed, just to be used as hostages to know the location of one of Klaus’ brother.

Neither of them say a thing. Dave isn't about to give these monsters any information, and he knows, with some nausea, that Klaus has been trained in anti-interrogation tactics as a child and so he comes to the same conclusion and stays silent as well, though his eyes are still wide and teary and he keeps fidgeting in his seat, clearly distressed.

Dave realises he was likely thinking about Sadie.

Swallowing heavily, he turns his gaze away, another tear falling from his eyes, and the woman sighs dramatically.

“Hard way it is, then,” she utters, sounding disappointed in them. She tips her head side to side to look between the both of them, and then she turns to Dave and stands with their toes nearly touching. Had the tape not still been covering his mouth, Dave might have been tempted to spit at her.

And then she cranks back her fist and punches him across the face.

He doesn't expect the force that came with it, honestly. His head whips to the side and beside him, Klaus makes a loud noise of protest. Dave catches his eye again and gives him a pointed look, one he hopes Klaus understands to be ‘be quiet’ – if this is a case of them trying to beat information from them, then Dave would take it. He would rather he took it than Klaus.

And surely, one of Klaus’ siblings must notice they’re gone? If nothing else, they must end up finding – finding Sadie-

She punches him again, and again, and again, until his nose is bleeding and his lip is split and Klaus is yelling furiously. Despite the tape covering his mouth and muffling his words, it could clearly be heard that he is saying; “it’s me! It’s me! It’s me, I’m Five’s brother!”

The woman lets out a sigh, taking a step back and shaking out her knuckles, and then turns to Klaus. Dave swallows the blood in his mouth, unable to spit it out, and lists to the side as he tries to breathe through the pain his face, though he keeps his gaze on Klaus.

The woman, and Dave dubs her ‘Pink’ due to the colour of her mask, and the man ‘Blue’ for the same reason, tears Klaus’ tape off his face. Klaus inhales sharply, leaning back away from her, and then says, more clearly, “it’s me – I’m – I’m Five’s brother, please, stop, don’t hurt him.”

“See, wasn’t that easy?” Drawls Pink, dropping the tape to the floor. “Now, question number two: where is Five?”

Klaus’ eyebrows furrow together slightly and he looks at Dave, then looks aside and back to Pink. “W-what?”

He can virtually feel Pink rolling her eyes at Klaus as if he is stupid.

“Once more; where is Five?”

“I don’t – I don’t know,” Klaus says, shaking his head. And then, blinking rapidly, “where’s – where’s Sadie? What did you do to Sadie?”

His voice breaks and wobbles, thick with tears, and Dave has to screw his eyes shut. His fingers dig into the arms of the chair and he doesn't want the answer, he doesn't want to know-

Pink tips her head to the side curiously, and then looks over at Blue, who shifts on the spot. Looking away, Blue says, “kid with them, guess it was theirs.”

Pink lets out a hum and Blue walks in front of them by her side, and when under the heavy weight of her gaze, Blue steps closer to Klaus, puts a hand on the back of his chair to lean into his space, and tilts his head just so in Dave’s direction so he could see the both of them, and he says, “what do you think I did to her? She got in the way.”

Dave makes a sound a bit like he had just been shot, and honestly, that is what if felt like. His body begins to slowly slump forwards, trembling with tension and he can't help the sounds coming past his lips. Distantly, Klaus keens low in his throat, and he pushes himself against the back of his chair, trying to escape Blue unsuccessfully. He shakes his head frantically from side to side, muttering a litany of, “no, no, no, god, please no, you didn’t.”

“What good parents you two are,” retorts Pink, shaking her head as if disappointed with them. Klaus hangs his head, continuing his mantra of pleas that they would reveal they had just made a horrific joke, disbelieving what they had said.

Pink, seeming fed up with this, steps forwards, curls her hand in his hair and yanks his head upright. “Your daughter’s dead,” she states, though it only succeeded in making Klaus’ whimpering loudly. “And if you don’t answer my question, then you two are going to follow her real quick. Got it?”

In response, Klaus sobs. Pink punches him for it. Between his sobs, Dave tries to yell out at her, either to get her to stop or to get her attention on him instead. Though she strikes him multiple more times, she eventually snaps her head to Dave.

“He’s getting on my nerves,” she says, looking to Blue. “Put him somewhere else.”

The implications of that are too vague and he wonders if he was just going to be killed then and there, and the idea tears him in half. He can't imagine a life without his daughter, can't imagine going on knowing he hadn’t been strong enough to protect her and that she’d been murdered, and he wanted to be with her, even if that meant dying and finding her in whatever afterlife there might be. His other half felt disgusted at the thought, knowing he couldn’t leave Klaus, knowing he needed to be there for Klaus and that Klaus would not cope with their loss – certainly not cope with seeing Dave die in front of him, too, and maybe even Sadie if he had gotten attacked in his room just after Dave had been attacked – and he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving him alone like that. He was just so torn, needing to be with Klaus, knowing he should by trying to protect him, but so utterly distraught and completely defeated with the death of his daughter, it was as if all motivation and fight was drained dry from him.

When Klaus starts protesting as Blue came around, grabbing the back of Dave’s chair and dragging him away, Pink punches him to shut him up. Blue does not just kill him, as he expects, but he drags him into a closet in the room and closes the doors. He can't see outside of it, but he can still hear them all.

He can hear them as Klaus was gagged again, likely more effectively than the tape, and as Pink sighs something about _taking the hard way_.

And Dave can do nothing but listen and let his imagination fill in what was happening to Klaus.

He can hear them punch him, hear Klaus’ responding moans of pain. He can hear her threatening to do much worse; can hear Klaus’ moans from being punched turn to muffled, choked screams and cries from something else, and Dave can do nothing.

Every so often, the gag would be taken off of Klaus and he would repeat his mantra of not knowing where Five was. His voice begins to get rougher as if he had been choked, and then at points he begins to cough and splutter and gasp for air as if he was being drowned. The gag would return and worse pain would come to his lover, and sometimes Pink would make quips about Dave; about killing him, about torturing him. Sometimes she would mention Sadie.

“Oh?” She says at one point, rifling through something. “This your wallet? And oh, what’s this picture? That Sadie, huh?”

Klaus moans, his pleads nearly inaudible, little more than distressed little noises in his sore throat.

“Cute girl,” comments Pink, and Dave can't stop his mind from wandering. He thinks about Sadie, and how he would read her to sleep, and how she would hug into her blanket and her unicorn plushie that Klaus had gotten her, and how she would try to keep her eyes open to hear the ending of the story but always fail. He imagined her, trudging from her room in the morning with sleep-messed hair, rubbing her eyes and struggling to stay awake to eat her breakfast. He imagined waking up with Klaus, and his lover rolling out of bed to go tickle her awake, and how he would hear her squeals and laughter from his bedroom. He imagined Klaus running after her in the park, both with wide smiles on their faces, and how the two of them just clicked together so quickly. He imagined the day she was born, and holding her tiny form swathed in blankets in his arms, and how her tiny little hand could only curl around one of his fingers.

“She’d make for a good open casket, if he didn’t touch her pretty little face.”

Dave sobs so hard he thinks he might be sick.

###

At some point an intermediate amount of time later, the closet door is thrown open and Blue is there again, without his stupid mask on, and he drags Dave out of the closet to sit in his original position. His eyes immediately go to Klaus and he makes a noise of horror.

Klaus’ face is covered in bruises, one of his eyes dark black and swollen. His neck is circled in deep red lines, almost like cuts, and his shirt has been cut off of his torso and forgotten in a heap on the floor. This lets Dave see all of the bruises decorating his body like spilled paint, and all of the cigarette burns dotted over him like freckles, and the mess of his chest that looked like a mix of long cuts created by a sharp knife, covered in burns. He is trembling, and, Dave notices, he is wet; his hair damp, water running down his face and his neck, down his chest. Beside his feet is a bucket of water with a wet, blood-stained cloth in it. Waterboarding, Dave realises.

Blue shifts him slightly, perfectly lining him in view of Klaus, forcing them to look at one another.

Pink says, “I’m getting bored of this now.” She wanders over to Dave’s side, staring at Klaus. Then, without another word, she takes a knife from her pocket and stabs it into Dave’s thigh. Dave cries out, doubling over, and Pink keeps her grip on the knife. Klaus yells too, making muffled, incomprehensible noises into his gags that were undoubtedly pleas for her to stop.

Dave can't help but notice that the picture Klaus kept in his wallet of all three of them had been discarded on the floor, and it had been burnt so that Sadie was out of it. It makes his heart jump into his throat more than the knife in his leg does.

He grits his teeth against the pain, hands balling into fists as well as they can, gone half-numb due to the tight restraints. Then Pink asks, “are you going to tell me yet?”

He catches Klaus’ eyes, giving him a pointed look that was probably not as strong as he wanted due to his red-rimmed eyes and the tears still clouding them. Klaus looks pleadingly at Dave and – he just looks so broken. As broken as Dave feels.

Shrugging, Pink twists the knife, and Dave screams. She twists, and twists, and twists, and Klaus screams and yells and sobs until finally, _finally_, she stops.

“Are you going to talk now?” She asks, tauntingly, and he hurriedly nods his head as swiftly as he could.

She yanks the knife from his leg, causing him to yell again, and he tugs pathetically at his restraints in an attempt to hold his leg. Pink strides to Klaus, tears the tape off his mouth and pulls the cloth out of his mouth.

“Meritech!” Klaus splutters, voice torn and wrecked. “He – he mentioned something about – about Meritech! Please! Please, please, please, he said – he was at Meritech, looking for an eye or something, please, I swear, that’s all I know, that’s it, please, please, stop-“

Pink shares a look with Blue, and they subtly nod to one another and begin moving around the room, gathering things and ignoring Klaus’ ragged sobs. Blue comes over, put tape back over Klaus’ mouth, and together they leave, putting a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign up on their way out and leaving Klaus and Dave reeling in the motel room.

Dave tries to get Klaus’ attention, but his lover simply doubles over onto himself, head hanging to the ground, entire body trembling with sobs. Dave’s own eyes burn with tears that he had to force back, and he tries to shuffle his chair closer to Klaus but has to stop at the dizzying pain in his leg, and he wonders if Pink had cut something major within him.

Eventually, at his persistence at trying to get his attention with muffled calls, Klaus weakly lifts his head and meets Dave’s gaze, and Dave can't stop the tear that falls down his cheek when he looks at his lover like that, and how the pain and grief and hopelessness resonates within himself.

He longs to reach out and just – just take his hand in his, or hold his cheek in his hand, and he needs so desperately to just be able to touch him, for his own comfort and for Klaus’, but it was futile. They are too far to be able to reach one another.

Klaus drops his head again and begins to weep, and Dave screws his eyes shut and tries not to join him. In the end, he doesn't win.

###

He doesn't know how long they are left there, exhausted and aching and hopeless, full of despair, with the burnt picture of Sadie on the floor between them.

Dave has no idea what will happen when their two kidnappers would return. Either they would find Five and let them go, maybe drive them out somewhere random and kick them out, or just take their stuff and leave them to get out the motel by themselves, or maybe they’d just end up killing them either way. Dave can't find the energy to care.

He should have done better. Should have taken Sadie somewhere else, further into the house, into one of the many unused rooms no one would look in, far from the fighting. He should have made her hide better; should have fought better. Should have been better.

If he had been better, she would still be alive. If he had simply just done better.

Klaus makes a noise, something other than sobbing for the first time in a while. Dave, almost reluctantly, looks up and finds Klaus’ eyes on the window, wide and desperate, and then he keeps making muffled noises, words Dave can't decipher due to the gag, but then Dave sees it; a shadow, creeping slowly down the walkway outside. A silhouette that decidedly isn’t Pink or Blue.

Klaus and Dave share a frantic look and Dave might have felt hopeless for himself, but he isn't going to let Klaus die at their hands either, and being closer to the door, Dave forces his way through the pain in his head and his leg and shuffles painstakingly towards the table nearby the door. Then, with his good leg, when he is close enough, he reaches out and kicks it, again and again and again.

The person pauses outside of the door, talking to someone, and for a moment he fears it truly was Pink and Blue, but they would have come in by now.

The door handle jiggles, someone picking the lock, and two people come in; a man and a woman. He doesn't recognise the woman, but he did recognise Diego.

“Shit,” says the woman, and Diego echoes it, looking between the two of them. He hands one knife to the woman, taking another one for himself, and he goes to Klaus to cut his restraints and take off his gag whilst the woman does the same for him, speaking as she did. “I’m detective Eudora Patch,” she says, offering a soft smile. “We’re going to get you two out of here, alright? Come on.”

She gently peels off the tape from his mouth, cuts the tape around his wrists, and holds his arms as he begins to stand up slowly, legs tingling and weak. Diego has to support Klaus to stand too, but as soon as the two are up, they turn to one another.

Klaus shoves off Diego, limping forwards on shaking legs until he can all but fall against Dave’s chest, and he begins to sob once more. “I’m so sorry,” he bawls. “I’m so sorry, I brought you two here, I’m the reason they – if I hadn’t – if I’d done more – I’m so sorry, oh my god, _Dave_-“

Dave closes his eyes, throat closing up tighter, and he winds his arms around Klaus. It isn't Klaus’ fault; he knows it wasn’t, and he won't accept that at all. But his baby girl is still dead, and it was the two psychopaths’ faults, not Klaus. But she is still dead, and that would never change.

Gritting his teeth painfully against his tears, Dave clings onto Klaus as tightly as Klaus clings onto him, undoubtedly hurting him with all of his wounds and the tightness of their embrace, putting weight on his good leg, and can't quite resist the urge to sink to the floor with him. Klaus wails, tears of guilt and self-blame and grief running down his face and soaking into Dave’s shirt, and Dave gives up on trying to hold his own tears back.


	7. Chapter 7

“We’re going to play a game, okay?” Says Aba, and Sadie perks up at that. Still clutched in her hands is one of the cookies she and Grace had made together, one shaped vaguely like a dog, when Daddy leaves the room, chasing the loud sounds outside. She takes her gaze away from the door he had just ran out, turning to face him curiously. He reaches out, taking the cookie from her hands to set it aside, and then he stands up and looks around the room.

“We’re going to play hide and seek for Daddy, okay? So when he comes back, you’re hiding and you can surprise him.”

Aba moves in a rush; tugging her arms, he coaxes her up onto her feet and looks around, and then he begins to mess with the blankets on the bed. He seems excited for her to get the chance to scare Klaus when he comes back and she can’t help but laugh a little – she can only imagine how surprised he’ll be!

“Will you – will you tell me when he’s coming? So I can jump out?” She asks, watching Aba with wide eyes as he bunches up the blankets at the end of the bed. He turns to her and despite the loud bang that echoes outside, making even her jump, he smiles at her.

“Of course I will,” he says. His eyes bounce to the door behind her and then he nods to the bed. “Come on, you can hide under here, he’ll never know you’re there.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Sadie lifts her arms as Dave comes over and lifts her up, setting her on the bed and then holding the blankets up for her to crawl underneath. Aba crouches by the bed, ducking his head so he can still see her, and Sadie smiles brightly at him.

“He’ll never see me,” she giggles, and Aba’s smile widens and wobbles. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “He won’t. Now, you’ve got to be quiet, okay? Like a mouse; can you do that?”

Sadie nods, placing a finger over her lips to hush him, and he smiles encouragingly. “I’m going to move the blankets so he can’t see you. I’ll tell you when to come out, and we’ll surprise Daddy, won’t we?”

Remembering to keep quiet, Sadie settles on nodding and muffling her laugh with her hand. Aba begins to fix the blankets around her, hiding her completely from view. There is a tiny gap that she can just see through, and she can see Aba sitting on the bed beside her.

“You okay in there, princess?” He asks. Sadie wiggles her hand out of the small gap to give him a thumbs up and Aba squeezes her hand. He holds it for several long moments before letting go and letting her pull it back beneath the covers hiding her, and together they fall quiet again, waiting for Daddy to come back in so she can surprise him.

The commotion from downstairs gets quieter until it stops completely, and then there are footsteps coming down the corridor and towards the door. She braces herself, trying to watch the door through the little gap in the covers over her though she can’t quite see from the angle it is at, waiting for Aba’s cue to jump out.

The door opens and someone steps in. Aba rises swiftly to his feet, stepping quickly in front of where Sadie is hiding, successfully blocking her view completely, but he doesn’t give a signal for Sadie to jump out so she remains in place.

“I don’t want any trouble,” says Aba, voice steady. There is tension brewing in the air and she finds herself curling her fingers in the blankets around her and trying her best to peer around Aba to see who the other person in the room is. She doesn’t manage to, but she can hear them, at least.

Aba is telling the other person to get out. To leave them alone; again, he doesn’t want trouble. Sadie doesn’t entirely understand it, and she has to resist the urge to peer out of her hiding spot to see what is going on.

Then there is a loud thud. She jumps slightly, and Aba is no longer covering her view. There is another loud thud and she pokes her head out of the blankets to see a large man sitting over Aba, and she is just in time to see his head hit the floor. Eyes blowing wide, she pushes her way out of the covers and yells out for him.

The person sitting atop Aba’s hips freezes, turning to look at her, body tense with the surprise that is supposed to be on her Daddy, not him. Aba is just as frozen on the ground, unmoving, eyes closed, like he is asleep.

“Aba!” She yells, all but tumbling off the bed and rushing towards him, almost tripping in her haste. She frowns at the two of them, and then she reaches out, curls her hands in the person’s sleeve, and she begins to tug him in an attempt to get him off. It works; the man with the blue face sits to the side, not touching Aba, and Sadie sits by his head, reaching out to poke his cheek and shake his shoulders like he does to her in the morning when trying to get her to wake up. Only this time, Aba stays asleep.

“Aba,” she says, shaking his shoulder. “Aba, wake up.” He isn’t a light sleeper, usually. She could wake him up by crawling into bed with him and Daddy, slotting herself between them in the early morning, and he would wake up – at least for long enough to greet her with a hug and a kiss before falling back to sleep with her. When he doesn’t prove to wake up like usual, she tries to shake him a little harder, fisting her hands in the fabric of his top. She looks up at the other person in the room with her, now having risen to his feet, and asks, “why won’t he wake up?”

The person offers no response, leaving her to try and wake him up herself, frustration and worry bubbling up within her when it continues to never work, and she feels the urge to cry crawling up her throat. Why won’t he wake up?

She is still kneeling by his side when someone else jumps into the room, and she looks up, startling, to watch her Daddy throw himself at the man with the blue face. She shuffles backwards away from them, watching with wide eyes as they tussle, keeping her hand curled into Aba’s shirt. She watches as, just like Aba, her Daddy finds himself in a heap on the floor, and she cries out for him. Had the other man not been positioned between them, she would have wanted to go towards him; the fall must have hurt, she thinks, because it does whenever she falls over but either Aba or Daddy is there to reassure her afterwards, and she wishes she could return it.

But then her Daddy hits his head and falls asleep, just like Aba, and she doesn’t understand what the man is doing and why her parents won’t get up.

She is torn, finding it hard to let go of her tight grip on Aba’s shirt and yet she can’t just leave her other parent like that, all alone, and she ought to try waking him up too. Reluctantly, she lets go of Dave’s shirt and scrambles onto her feet, and then she hurries over to Klaus, rounding the odd man’s legs as he still stands tall, towering over the slumbering form of her Daddy, his hands curled into fists. She does that, sometimes, when she’s frustrated or upset or when she yells. She wonders why he’s upset.

“You were hiding,” says the man, voice sounding all muffled and funny from his mask, and she cranes her head up to look at him.

“I wanted to surprise Daddy,” she says, looking back down at him, sleeping soundly by her knees. The man falls silent again and so Sadie shakes Klaus, hands fisting his shirt by his shoulders. His head falls back slightly but he doesn’t wake up. If this is a game they are playing, Sadie does not find it very fun at all. If anything, she’s getting a little mad, because they love to play games but not like this and it isn’t fun, not at all, and it’s going on for too long. They like to tease one another, like to joke around, but they know when to stop, and they’ve never taken it this far.

The man crouches beside her. Even so, he still seems so tall beside her; she still has to tip her head up to look at him – or, well, into the cartoon eyes of the mask he’s wearing. It’s similar, kind of, to one Klaus had bought her once in some little fair set up in the park last fall, only much bigger and it covers the man’s entire head, a bit like some fancy astronaut helmet.

For several moments, they just stare at one another. Sadie has nothing to say to him and he is taking a while to speak, and it’s only as she’s about to turn and try shaking her Daddy awake again does he finally speak up.

“Does either of your daddies know someone named Five?”

What a silly question, she thinks. Her eyebrows furrow and she cocks her head to the side. She has an Uncle Five, whom had visited their house not that long ago, but she hadn’t seen him since. “Uncle Five?” She says, and the man tips his head to the side in a similar fashion to hers; with the bear mask, it looks a little funny, but she’s too worked up still from her parents playing this not-fun game with her to laugh at it.

“Uncle Five,” he repeats, testing the words, and she nods her head in confirmation. “Do you know where Uncle Five is?”

Sadie frowns, looking down at her Daddy’s face again before peering around the man’s broad shoulder to look at Aba, still sprawled out on the floor. He always told her not to sleep like that; it hurts one’s neck. She doesn’t want him to have a sore neck when he wakes up.

“Uh-uh,” she says, shaking her head. “He and Daddy went out, and he didn’t come back. I don’t know where,” she states, frowning once more, and then repeats her attempts at shaking him.

The man goes from crouching on the balls of his feet to kneeling down, ducking his head so he can see her again. “You were hiding to scare him earlier, right?” He asks, and once she’s nodded he continues to speak. “How about you go hide again, so when they get up they can come and find you and you can surprise them there.”

The idea gets her attention and she goes to stand up, but pauses. Neither of them look like they’re going to get up soon, and her gaze swings between her two parents. But then the man speaks up again, and says, “they’re waiting for you to hide. You want to surprise them, right?”

Hesitantly, Sadie nods her head and stares with wide eyes at the man. Then he nods his head to the door behind her, silent. She doesn’t want to leave them, but she suddenly doesn’t want to be in that room with that man any longer, as if suddenly flooded with the idea that he isn’t as nice as he seems at the moment, and that unless she wants to prove that feeling right, then she needs to leave right now.

So, she lets go of Klaus’ shirt and pushes herself up onto her feet. She almost trips over his long legs in an attempt to scramble from the room. She lingers in the doorway, turning back to look at them, but the man has already turned his back on her. Instead, he picks Klaus’ arm up and puts it over his shoulder, peeling him off the floor.

Surely just waking him up, right?

Before he can turn and look at her, she runs down the hallway. She runs, and runs, and she doesn’t stop until she reaches the door at the end of it, and she ducks into the bedroom. She likes this one. It’s neater than the one she was in before and has an aeroplane dangling from the ceiling, and there are pretty green plants dotted around, and a pair of shoes so big she thinks she might be able to sit inside of them. They remind her how big that man is, even when crouching down, and she frowns.

There is a desk, and she sits down under it. It is tucked away, out of sight of the door, but if she pokes her head out a little then she can see the long corridor she ran down.

She never sees either parent come down looking for her. She doesn’t even hear them calling for her, like usual.

So she sits, and she sits, and she sits. She curls her hands into fists, flattens them out, and repeats it. She holds onto her own upper arms and sets her chin on her knees and she doesn’t like this game. It might be silly, she might be overreacting, but she is close to both her parents and she doesn’t like being away from either one of them for long, let alone both of them, and certainly without knowing just when she will see them next.

She doesn’t like this game at all. She wants to see her parents, she wants to sit and cuddle with the both of them, and she wants this to be perfectly fine. She feels _scared_, and when she’s scared then at least one of them are always there to comfort her.

She’s just about to get up and go searching for them when she hears footsteps coming down the hall. She perks up at that and remains still, straining her ears to listen. They keep getting closer and closer and closer and she holds out hope that it is one or both of her parents.

The door groans as it is pushed open fully and the person that comes in is tall and big, and she thinks, for a moment, that it is that man again, but then she looks up and it isn’t; it’s her Uncle Luther. She thinks, for a moment, that’s wearing some incredibly thick and fuzzy sweater, similar to the ones that Daddy likes and that Aba makes fun of him for, but then she realises he isn’t.

When he sees her peering out from underneath the desk he all but jumps, and she remembers a cartoon she watched of an elephant being scared by a mouse and thinks it is similar to this situation. His arms fly up to cover his chest and his shoulders hunch up and for several moments, they just stare at one another.

“Sadie?” He says, tone utterly confused, and encouraged by him talking to her, she scoots out from her hiding spot underneath the desk and then uses it to help herself to her feet. “What – what are you doing in here?” He asks, and then his eyes widen and he looks down the corridor. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Sadie shakes her head and toys with her thumbnail between her teeth, worrying it and looking out onto the corridor. Hesitantly, her uncle edges around her and goes to his dresser where he pulls out a sweater the size of a bedsheet and pull it on, followed by a pair of gloves, and then he turns back to her and crouches down. She appreciates that; it hurts her neck to have to look so far up at him to meet his eyes.

“Where’s – where’s your dads?” He asks, voice hesitant and a little uncertain. His gaze jumps to the corridor, his eyebrows furrow. Sadie perks up at the mention of them and she rocks on her feet.

“They wouldn’t get up!” She says, partly whining, partly muffled from the hand over her mouth. “The man came in and they wouldn’t get back up, and he told me to hide,” she tells him, looking back over her shoulder at the door. “But they’re not coming to find me.”

Luther stares at her for several moments, looking rapidly between her and the door. “What did the man look like?” He asks, voice low.

“He was big,” says Sadie. “And he, uh, he wore a mask – a blue mask.”

Luther swallows audibly in the silence that follows her information, and then he nods and stands up, offering his hand out to her. “Alright, how about we check the bedroom for them?” He suggests. She slips her hand into his, but his hand is so much bigger than hers that she might as well just hold onto two of his fingers.

She hurries by his side, biting at the nails of her hand not in Luther’s even though she knows her Daddy always tells her not to otherwise they can’t paint her nails pretty colours, but she can’t help it now. She has to all but scurry to keep up with Luther and his long, long legs, and he has to slow down his pace for her, too.

She likes to imagine that she’ll grow up to be tall, too. Both her Aba and Daddy are very tall, and everyone says she takes after the both of them.

They go back to the bedroom but they hardly step through the door before Luther is quickly turning around; his large form blocks her view of the room and fills the doorway in a way that makes her unable to peer around them.

“Uncle Luther?” She asks, peering up at him. Luther looks uncertain, not quite meeting her gaze properly, and it takes him several moments before he speaks up again.

“How about we go see if they’re with the others?” He suggests, and she frowns.

“Did they leave? Are they hiding too?”

Luther swallows and smiles tensely at her. “Maybe they are,” he agrees. “So let’s go find them, huh?”

She nods her head. She eagerly wants to see them again, preferably as soon as possible, but she feels more comforted with Luther than she had with that stranger before, and she trusts him more, too. She trust him when he says that they’ll go look for them, and she trusts them when he says everything will be okay.

They go down the stairs, Luther making sure she doesn’t fall as they do, and then he guides her around a mess of broken glass on the floor. Her other uncle, Diego, is standing there, along with her Auntie Allison, and they both look surprised to see her – then they look somewhat scared.

“Oh, god, I forgot she was here for this,” murmurs her Auntie, eyes wide. She looks faintly sick, and she tries to remember what either her parents tell her to do when she feels sick.

“Christ,” mutters Diego, looking up the stairs. “What’re you doing with her?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at Luther. Before her uncle can speak up, she does.

“We’re looking for Aba and Daddy!” She states. “The man woke them up and now they’re hiding and we have to find them.”

Her relatives stare at her for several moments, wide-eyed, and then turn their gazes to a sheepish looking Luther.

“You mean…” Her Uncle Diego begins to say, but her Auntie nudges him in the side to cut him off and then she comes over to Sadie, crouching. Luther lets go of her hand as she approaches.

“Your daddy Klaus always loved playing hide and seek when we were younger,” she says. “He was very good at it. We could never find him and we’d have to give up. How about we let your uncles go and try and find them for us, and how about I paint your nails while we wait?” She offers, and Sadie presses her lips together. She looks between all three adults around her, conflicted between wanting to be the one to find her parents, but then Allison adds, “and when they come back, you can show them how pretty your nails are, huh? Oh! I can even do your makeup, if you’d like that.”

Won over, Sadie nods her head, and her hands goes into Allison’s, who beams brightly at her. Then she begins to guide them back around the broken mess on the floor, back up the stairs, as her uncles exchange a wide-eyed look and go out on the search to find her parents.

Sadie likes the room Allison brings her into; it’s pretty, with posters and pictures all over the walls, and nice furniture and a pink feather boat on the back of her door. Allison helps her sit up on the bed and she pulls out a box from her desk; coming over, she reveals it is completely full with colourful bottles of nail polish. She spreads them out onto the mattress next to Sadie, and kneels down on the floor in front of her.

“What colours would you like?” She asks, smiling in a way that seems to light up her whole face. It seems infectious; Sadie can’t help but smile in return, too. “Pick any,” she adds, “and as many as you want.”

She begins to search through them all, but eventually she picks out a pastel blue and a pastel yellow that reminds her of her parents, and it might be entirely subconscious, but the colours match the flowy blue blouse her Daddy loves to wear when it’s warm out, and the yellow matches the soft knitted sweater her Aba likes to wear all the time, and which feels so utterly soft whenever she cuddles up to him in it.

“Very cute colours,” Allison comments, and she holds one of Sadie’s hands and then begins to paint her nails, alternating colours each nail. Sadie watches as she does it carefully, wiping away any excess paint either side of her nails.

“You know, I have a little girl, and you remind me of her,” Allison comments absently. Sadie hums and asks,

“Can I play with her?”

Allison smiles and can’t quite meet her eyes; she focuses intently on finishing her pinky nail before holding her hand out for her other one. “I think she’d like that,” she hums, smiling, then nods at the hand she just painted. “Be careful, we don’t want the paint to smudge, do we?”

Sadie shakes her head and holds her hand out far from the bed, spreading her fingers so they don’t touch anything. She shakes them slightly, trying to air dry them a little faster like her Daddy does.

Allison finishes her nails and she seems perfectly content to talk with her about anything and everything until they dry, and then she pulls over her purse and pulls out some basic makeup out of it, then fishes around her room until she finds something a little more colourful. She opens an eyeshadow palette and holds it out for Sadie to see, and Sadie instantly zones in on one colour. She points a blue-nailed finger at it and declares, “that one! Please!”

Allison follows her finger and hums. “Purple? Oh, that’d just look beautiful on you!”

Sadie grins. Her legs swing off the bed as Allison finds a suitable brush and then she closes her eyes when instructed. “My Daddy likes the colour purple,” she states. “He likes to wear it like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hums Allison. Sadie nods slightly before remembering to hold her head still.

“Aba doesn’t do makeup as much, but Daddy does. He lets me do it for him.”

“I’m sure you’re just great at that, aren’t you?”

“Daddy likes to draw,” she adds. “So do I.”

“Oh, so you’re a little artist?” Allison muses, grinning. “What do you draw?”

“I draw my daddies,” she says, humming. “I drew Uncle Five!”

“Oh? When did you do that? You’ll have to show it to him – he’ll love it.”

“I did!” She exclaims. “He came to visit Daddy and slept over with us, so I drew him. He said it was very good.”

She cracks her eyes open just slightly to watch Allison and sees her smiling, but looking thoughtful. When she realises Sadie is looking at her, however, her grin widens. “What else do you draw?” She asks. Sadie hums in thought, closing her eyes.

“I draw… dogs. I like drawing cats – Daddy says we could get one, Aba says we’re not allowed. Daddy says we should sneak one in anyway.”

Allison laughs at that. Sadie likes her laugh. “I can draw you!” She offers. “I draw my daddies, and I drew Uncle Five – I draw Uncle Benny, too.” She grins, proud to share her artistic hobby, but Allison stops smiling. A little worried, Sadie opens her eyes and stares curiously back at Allison. Her face has fallen but she recovers quickly; “that’s nice,” she murmurs, her voice something gentle now.

She finishes off the makeup look and brings Sadie up to one of the mirrors to show her the blended mix of purple eyeshadow on her face, and she grins at her reflection. Allison settles her hands on Sadie’s shoulders and smiles. “You could be a model, look at you!” She exclaims, and Sadie giggles.

“When I’m older,” she says, “I want to make people happy.”

Both of her daddies do that, she thinks. She wants to be able to make others smile like they make her smile. She has friends who want to grow up to be vets and care for animals, and she has a friend who wants to be a scientist. Sadie just wants to make people happy like her parents do.

Allison pauses, tipping her head to the side, and she doesn’t stop smiling but it becomes something more gentle once more. “I think you’re already doing that,” she says, and Sadie beams.

Luther and Diego have not yet returned, so Allison takes Sadie downstairs and into the kitchen. They scour through cupboards before finding some cupcake mix and together they start to make it. There is even icing to put on top of them; even decorations to put on top of that. When her Auntie isn’t looking, Sadie sneaks a couple of the gem toppings to drop into her mouth.

She likes hanging out with Allison. She is fun to speak with; she says funny things. She knows how to talk to her, too, and she has fun. They’ve just pulled started icing the cupcakes at the table when the front doors open.

Sadie has been content to play with her Auntie, but she most certainly has not forgotten why her uncles left in the first place. She turns and bounds to the door, but Allison catches up quickly.

“Remember,” she says, stepping in front of her and peering around the doorway, “there was glass on the floor, you’ve got to be careful.”

“Sorry,” she says, then rocks on her feet. “Is that them? I want to see them,” she tries to get around her, but Allison moves to remain in her way. Her face is a little pale.

“It is them,” she confirms, then catches her again before she can bound out to them, “but they need to sit down for a moment, okay? We can see them in a minute.”

“I want to see them now!” Sadie whines, all that frustration from earlier bubbling back up. She has enjoyed her time with her Auntie, but she misses her parents and she doesn’t understand why they won’t just let her see them. She can hear people talking; she catches sight of her Uncle Luther as he hurries forwards to open a door. He hears her Uncle Diego, and another woman’s voice, and she hears more footsteps.

“I know,” Allison says, apologetic, “but it’s just another five minutes-“

“I want to see my daddies,” she insists, less whining now but sounding more upset. “They wouldn’t wake up. I want to see them.”

Allison’s face twists and she crouches down in front of her – not that it matters much now, she can see over Allison’s head like this but they have already gone out of her sight. “I know, dear,” she says, reaching out to take her hands. “I’m sorry, your daddies want to see you too, but they just need to do something real quick, okay? As soon as they’re done, we’ll go see them.”

Sadie presses her lips together tightly, but she nods. She doesn’t resume icing the cupcakes like Allison tries to coax her into doing to pass the time; she simply sits and stares at the doorway, fiddling with her painted fingers. Then, after what she’s sure is most definitely not five minutes, Uncle Diego comes around the corner.

She jumps up onto her feet and Allison stands too. “You can come see them,” he says, looking between the two of them and trying to silently talk to Allison with his eyes only. She isn’t sure it’s really working, but she doesn’t really care; she simply follows after him eagerly, lets him guide the way into a room she hasn’t seen.

Finally, finally, her eyes fall onto the only people she’s been wanting to see the whole day. They look very tired, she thinks. And very sad. That won’t do.

“Aba! Daddy!” She exclaims, rushing forwards, and both of their heads snap up and their eyes widen.

Klaus is the closest to her, so she decides to make him her first hug, though she hopes that Dave will come over and join in rather than being left out – and plus, her Daddy just looks so horrifically _sad_ that it makes her pause a little – but she gets close, and her Daddy makes a terrible _noise_ and moves away from her. He draws his legs up onto the bed he is sitting on, so she can’t even touch them, and he covers his face with both of his shaking hands and keeps making those terrible noises. His head shakes from side to side and he moans.

Sadie can only stand, completely thrown off and blinking wide-eyed at him. “Daddy?” She asks, coming up to the edge of the bed he’s on and trying to reach up; he peers through his fingers at her and moves even farther away.

Sadie realises he’s crying.

The sight utterly shocks and confuses her. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him cry like this before – she’s seen him cry happy tears. He says it’s okay to cry, but she’s never seen him like this.

“_Sadie_,” says Aba, and she turns to look at him. Of course she is as equally excited to see him as she was with Klaus, but she feels utterly confused with her Daddy’s reaction to seeing her, and both a little hurt and a lot worried.

Seeing his open arms, however, Sadie hurries over to Dave and allows him to pull her up onto the bed he’s sitting on, and he all but crushes her into a tight embrace which she eagerly returns, pressed against his chest and winding her arms around him.

Several moments pass and she twists her head to look up. “Aba, why is Daddy crying?” She asks, and he just cries even harder. Dave squeezes her against him and then shuffles to the edge of his bed. With a long arm he reaches out, resting a hand on Klaus’ knees for a moment; Klaus startles and moves out of the way again.

“Klaus – Klaus, please, look, it’s okay,” he says, and Sadie just watches and waits.

“I’m so sorry,” Klaus whispers, voice shaking, and she has no idea what he’s sorry for.

“Daddy?” She repeats, trying to reach forwards, but he’s too far out of the way.

“Klaus, look at me,” Dave says, and he nudges Sadie up onto her feet on the floor before joining her, and they move to sit on the far end of Klaus’ bed; Sadie in the middle of them. Gently, Dave reaches out, coaxing a hand from Klaus’ face, and says, softly, “look.”

He sets his hand on Sadie’s head gently, as if Klaus is afraid of touching her, but the moment he does, his eyes shoot open and he looks over abruptly. Despite being worried for him, Sadie smiles under his gaze and sets one of her hands on his arm.

“Are you okay, Daddy?” She asks, and Klaus makes another sound. He looks between Dave and Sadie rapidly before he inhales, and then he is pulling Sadie tight against him in a surprising hug, though not an unwelcome one.

Her Daddy is obviously upset, and that’s okay – she gets upset sometimes, and he is always there for her, so she thinks it’s only fair if she can try and return the favour. She wraps her arms around him tightly and, though her voice is muffled against his chest, tells him what he always tells her; “it’s okay to cry, Daddy, you can be happy after.”

Klaus does cry, but then Dave is joining the hug too, and Sadie does her best to wrap her arms around both of her parents. She isn’t sure why they are so shocked and sad, and she doesn’t like it, but she hopes she is making them feel better, at least.

Klaus doesn’t let go for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I'm not a complete monster, of course she's perfectly okay!  
Also, I realise I haven't clarified it but (at least to my understanding, do feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) Aba is a Hebrew* term for father/daddy, hence why Sadie uses it for Dave.


End file.
